


Fuck Time

by bluegrasskitty



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Acute stress disorder, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bondage, Comments keep the lights on in my heart, Consensual Non-Consent, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Angst, Gaslighting, Gratuitous Smut, Infertility, Jealousy, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Miscarriage, Mommy Kink, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Older Woman/Younger Man, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Stalking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Vaginal Fingering, everyone's a switch, happy ending guarantee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 84,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegrasskitty/pseuds/bluegrasskitty
Summary: There’s a reason heroes always ride off into the sunset before the end credits roll.Cassandra ‘Mama Cass’ Jones, former America’s Sweetheart and current Savior of the Commonwealth, has been having a very bad day, everyday, for over a year now. Guilt, shame, unrequited love and an undiagnosed case of acute stress disorder have all come together to render this once professional good girl into a twisted shadow of her former self.Her friends and lovers alike watch helplessly as she crumbles like a sandcastle in the sun, unable to stop the cycle of self-destruction and penance she’s trapped in.She is her own worst enemy and there is no winning against herself.Everyone hopes it won’t happen. Some even tell themselves it can’t happen. But it’s coming. The Sole Survivor’s days of wandering the wastes are numbered.Everyone knows it.Well...almost everyone.Someone probably should have clued MacCready in before he found himself on the General’s payroll.(Title borrowed from the Green Day song, as per usual. ❤)
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout), John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor, John Hancock/Sole Survivor (Fallout), Robert Joseph MacCready/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready/Sole Survivor
Comments: 193
Kudos: 106





	1. Caught in the Footlights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Yes, I live! My ankle is still broken. Other stories will resume shortly. This one I typed on my phone, which is why it got written at all.
> 
> Please Note: This story is not like my other stories. There are no good guys here (except Dogmeat, of course). I am also attempting to become more comfortable with certain naughty-pants language, so this is kind of a test run of sorts. In most of my stories, I try very hard to demonstrate positive, healthy relationship dynamics most of the time. Even when I don't, I always have characters at least comment on how unhealthy they are. Usually, people read my stories and learn something new and fun and sexy.
> 
> This story is not like those stories.
> 
> In fact, if anyone out there reads this and thinks "Oh, this reminds me of my relationship with so-and-so!", you may want to reexamine that relationship because chances are very good it's not good for you.
> 
> I realize all this makes this story sound very heavy, but it's not. I have wrapped it in as much humor and sass as I possibly can just to cut the bitter with a little sweet. 
> 
> Enjoy! ❤

MacCready had, for once, been having a decent night. A glass of not-terrible whiskey in his hand, brand new pack of smokes in his pack, and enough caps in his pocket to get his dick sucked. Given how low he’d been lately, and given that he was currently holed up in Goodneighbor, a place where dreams came to die, he may as well have won the fucking lottery.

Then Charlie ‘Face Only a Mother Could Love’ Winlock and Mattie ‘Sister Fucker’ Barnes finally found him.

Mac had been relaxing in the rare silence of the Third Rail’s VIP room when they strolled on in like they had a right to. His eyes about rolled out of his head at the exaggerated tough guy strut they were both putting on.

As if he didn’t know their balls had to be tucked up so high they were probably in their collective throats. This was Hancock’s town, and Hancock had made his irritation at the whole idea of the Gunners very clear when he took out the platoon that had set up shop around the corner.

He’d thought the creatively crude ways the naked bodies had been positioned after was a nice touch.

“Can't say I'm surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready.”

He sighed heavily and didn’t bother to hide his irritation, “I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock. It's been almost three months... don't tell me you're getting rusty.” Mac set his whiskey on a side table and leaned back in his seat. “Should we take this outside?”

Winlock sneered at him, “It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message.”

“In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good.”

His eyes rolled once again in the face of their unearned arrogance and landed on another person just walking in. Some lady. Petite, blonde, pretty. Just his type, if he could have afforded to be picky and actually have a type, that is. She had on one of those fancy pink pre-war dresses you sometimes saw rich women wearing and a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. They crinkled at the edges when she noticed him watching her and a shit-eating-grin spread over her face before she held up a finger to her lips.

Weird.

The Gunners hadn’t noticed her presence and Mac wasn’t about to involve some poor, innocent, possibly available for a good time later, woman in something like this, so he turned his attention back to the two men. The lady exaggeratedly snuck over behind them, walking on tiptoe even in her heels, and then stood with her hands on her hips. Her head tilted a little to make sure Mac had her in his line of sight, and then she began imitating Winlock’s cocky, aggressive stance while making wildly inappropriate faces.

Mac felt the beginnings of a smirk try to take up residence on his face and stamped down the impulse.

Winlock remained as oblivious as ever, “Yeah, I heard. But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn't going to work for us.”

The lady scrunched up her face and waggled her shoulders dramatically while mouthing the words, turning his tough guy speech into something even more absurd.

“I don't take orders from you... not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can.” Her silent laughter was almost worth the ass kicking he was flirting with here.

Barnes snarled at him, “What! Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit…”

Winlock held up his hand and his companion’s sputtering came to a halt. “Listen up, MacCready. The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries... we know how to play the game. It's something you never learned.”

“Glad to have disappointed you.”

“You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?”

The lady was now aiming finger guns at their heads, her ‘pew pew’ sound effects were still silent, but easily understood. Anymore of this and he was going to end up laughing right in their faces.

Mac cleared his throat, “You finished?”

The lady flashed him a thumbs up, apparently quite impressed with how much disrespect he could soak a word in. She had a smile like on one of those pre-war Vault-Tec billboards.

She really was cute. Too bad she was clearly bonkers on top of it.

“Yeah... we're finished.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” She clapped her hands and both Gunners about jumped out of their skins. They turned as one to her and Mac was surprised to see their faces go slack with shock. She grinned and winked at them, “Hello, boys. Fancy meeting you here.”

“The fuck--”

“Oh! Such language in front of a lady! What would your mothers think?” She tsked at them, “You know, I’m actually rather shocked. I mean...there’s two of you, so your combined brainpower should at least be greater than a jar of mayonnaise, and yet here we are.”

“What?”

Her head tilted, “Didn’t you think it was a  _ little _ strange that Ham just let the two of you waltz on in here? I know you know Hancock doesn’t want you in his town, let alone his bar. I mean, the Third Rail is his baby. His one true love. Even I can’t compete. Everybody knows that.” She glanced around them at Mac and smiled like they were old friends, “Am I wrong here?”

He had no fucking idea what was happening, but Winlock and Barnes looked like they were about to shit themselves, so he was all for it. Mac picked his glass back up and shrugged at her, “Nope.”

“Nope, he says. See? Even the kid knows it.”

That had him frowning. She said ‘kid’ like he was five years old.

Winlock seemed to have finally gotten his brain working again and scowled at her, “So why did he let us in?”

Her smile was suddenly sharp and full of knives, “Because  _ I _ wanted to give  _ you _ a message, of course.”

Barnes had that dangerous look on his face that usually meant bad, bad things were about to happen to any woman in the vicinity. “Oh, yeah? What’s the message?”

“I need the two of you to radio or telegraph or carrier pigeon or however it is you contact your big daddy boss and tell him Mama Cass says mess with another one of my settlements and I’ll make what happened at Hub City look like _‘Giget Goes Hawaiian’._ You got all that, Moondoggie?”

“Uh…”

“In other words, Little Wessy keeps his hands to himself or Mama’s gonna spank him so  _ fucking _ hard he’ll wish he’d been born without an ass.”

Winlock looked a little pale, “What happened to Hub City?”

“Aw, why do you wanna know, peanut? You have a special friend there?” She shook her head sadly, “Well, I am sorry to say some big mean lady rolled right up and redecorated the whole place. Gave it the full entrails and blood splatter treatment. Very  _ chic. _ Very  _ stylish. _ I imagine all the raiders will be copying her look by spring.” When they both just stared at her, she rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, I feel like I’m talking to two very dull walls. This here’s the part where you scoot, boys! So… scoot.” She shooed them away and actually escorted them right out the door, waving cheerfully at their retreating back. “And feel free to never come back!”

Assholes handled, her attention returned to him. “Well! Aren’t they a couple of sweethearts.”

He snickered, “Yeah, real pair of swells.”

She smiled and joined him on the couch, “So!”

“So?”

“Did they at least get your name right, honey? You are RJ MacCready, aren’t you?”

Oh. Potential customer, maybe? Well, it wasn’t a lay, but still… “Look, lady. If you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk.”

“So you are looking for work?”

“Depends on the work.”

“Well, a little robin red-breast with a tricorn hat told me you’d be down for the kinda action I’ve got in mind and after seeing your cozy little chat with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, I think he might have been right.” She leaned close enough that he could see the glittering gold in her eyes, “Tell me, sugar, how would you like to help take down the Gunner empire? I’m talkin’ the whole thing. From that stupid TV station right on down to the last initiate.”

Holy shit. “You’ll never pull it off. You’d need a literal army for that.”

“Oh, I’ve got the army, cutie. What I don’t have is a man with inside knowledge. You wanna be that man for Mama?”

“Maybe.”

“First though, tell me how you ended up with those idiots anyway. Doesn’t seem like something an intelligent young person such as yourself would be into.”

“Didn’t your little birdie already tell you?”

She wrinkled her nose, “Well, no, actually. We have a rather different sort of pillowtalk than the private lives of local mercenaries.  _ Shocking, _ I know.”

Okay, so she  _ was _ one of Hancock’s girls. So maybe still crazy, but he knew the mayor wouldn’t have sent her down here if she were completely cracked.

Mac chuckled, “Alright. Well, I’m not local, first off. I’m from the Capitol Wasteland. I came up here looking for work and heard they were hiring, so I joined. Stuck with them for a while cause the money was good, but I never fit in. That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo. Anyway, I’m not about that raiding bullsh-stuff, and at the end of the day, that’s all they are. Raiders. Biggest gang in the Commonwealth… and  _ crazy. _ So tightly wound you’d think they were a cult or something.”

“So you’re saying you’re more the lone wolf type.”

He shrugged, “I guess.”

She squinted hard and stared him down, “I feel like that’s a lie you’re telling yourself.”

“What?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say you’re nothing but a big ol’ baby cuddlebug under all this… uh, grit.” She poked him in the arm and he pulled it away, “I bet you’d just flourish with a little positive reinforcement and somebody to take care of you.”

He scowled, “Is that right? You offering?”

She laughed, “Oh, he’s  _ sassy, _ too. You know what, Mac? I think I like you. This might work out just fine.”

“Well, what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?”

Her mouth dropped open for a second and then she started laughing, “Oh, my stars. I just realized I never introduced myself. I’ve gotten so used to people just knowing who I am, but you’re not from around these parts.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and extended a hand, “My name is Cass. Cassandra Jones, if you want to get serious about it, but most people just call me Mama Cass. I’m the General of the Minutemen, and on behalf of the Commonwealth, I’d like to formally welcome you to our once fair city.”

Mac took her hand and shook it, “The Minutemen?”

“Yessir.”

“You’re their general?”

“Yup. Goin’ on a year now.”

“The lady who blew up the Institute?”

She winced a little, “Not my finest moment, but yes.”

“And you want to hire me?”

“Yup.”

He knew about the Minutemen. Everybody knew about the Minutemen. They had more caps than sense. “Two fifty, up front. No room for negotiation.”

Cass grinned wide and he immediately wished he’d asked for more, “What a bargain! I don’t really have two fifty in my pockets right this second… it would ruin the lines of my dress. I’m sure you understand. But if you meet me in front of the State House tomorrow morning, I’ll have Hancock pull it out of the treasury.” She plucked at his sleeve, “And you can tell the vendors in town you’re on my tab, too, so you can, uh… spruce up a bit.”

“There’s nothing wrong with --”

“It’s cold outside, honey. About to get colder. I need you properly outfitted and well-rested or you won’t be any use to me at all.” She stood and reached into her pocket, pulling out a key. “Here. I already got you a room at the Rex. Make sure you clean up properly, soap and water behind the ears and all that. I like my boys neat and tidy.” She grinned and winked at him, “Wink.”

Mac took the key and then frowned up at her, “Did you just  _ say _ ‘wink’ at me?”

“Yup.”

“Uh…”

“Anyway, I gotta skedaddle. There’s a randy ghoul upstairs with no pants on and I gotta get back up there before he trips and falls into somebody else’s vagina.” She shook her head, “You wouldn’t believe how often that happens. He’s positively clumsy that way. Have a nice night, sweetheart… and tell Charlie I said to feed you the  _ good _ yao guai for dinner. None of that two week old nastiness he’s been passing off as ‘aged’. It’s disgusting.” One more comical face and she was gone.

If it weren’t for the key in his hand, Mac would have felt like the whole thing was some bizarre hallucination.

Cass bounced up the stairs from the Third Rail, bumped Ham’s hip just to hear him grumble and stepped out of the bar. It was at least freezing, maybe even below, and the thick cardigan she’d brought wouldn’t do much if the wind blew, but she shrugged it on anyway. The streets of Goodneighbor weren’t exactly scented with roses and champagne, but the air outside was still twenty times better than the air in. It always felt oily and thick to her and she never could tell if it was from the cooking or the company.

She’d lived in this strange post-apocalyptic dreamscape for over a year now. Almost exactly thirteen months. A lot had changed between then and now.

Gone was the little girl Time magazine had once called ‘America’s Atomic Age Sweetheart’. Gone was the prim little ADA she’d grown into with her belief in righteous justice and the good of humanity. Gone gone gone. She’d popped out of the ground running and it had only taken four months to breach the Institute.

Four terrible, exhausting months where she lied, cheated, stole and murdered her way right into the heart of darkness only to find her son was, in every way that mattered, already dead.

Her beloved, long awaited, dreamed of son. They’d ended up resorting to fertility treatments to conceive him. Endless rounds of hormone injections and tests and waiting, waiting, waiting. Her weight had gone from 125 to 185 to 105 before she even caught pregnant. Fourteen miscarriages in all.  _ Fourteen. _ And Shaun of all people had been the embryo that finally stuck.

It made her sick to think of even now.

Which is why she hardly ever did.

The worst part to her was that he’d known. He’d had her medical records, her husband’s medical records, his own medical records. He knew the fight they’d endured. The decade it had taken to create him. The pain and torment and torture they’d struggled through.

Then he’d taken that life, that precious miracle they’d sacrificed so much for, and  _ wasted _ it.

If she’d known then what she knew now, she’d have put her foot down harder about adopting.

Now here she was. Two hundred and forty-eight years old. No husband and no baby, but she had boyfriends and an army. That was almost as good.

Speaking of boyfriends, there was one now. Cass leaned against the brick wall of the State House and smiled coyly as he glided up.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Well, hello, beautiful.” Deacon placed his elbow on the wall just over her shoulder and leaned in, “Don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before.”

Oh, so that’s how it was. A new game. Cass gave him a patient, adoring look and then slid into her own role. “Well, I don’t come to town very often.”

“Ah, you’re from the country?”

“You could say that.”

“I could uh… show you around, if you’d like.”

His hand had already settled on her waist and she giggled. If he didn’t already have the privilege, she’d have torn his arm clean out of its socket for taking that kind of liberty. Her own arms twined around his neck and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear.

“I haven’t been with him yet, sweetheart. Be patient.”

He made a grumpy sort of noise and kissed her cheek, “Well, hurry up.”

“You could just come play with us. He wouldn’t mind.”

Deacon made a face, “I would.”

“He’d let you top.” Another grumpy sound against her neck and Cass laughed, “Alright, alright. Give me an hour.”

“Make it two.”

“Oh, somebody must be hungry tonight.”

“Famished...and bring Stimpaks.”

She blinked at that, “Oh, it’s one of those nights, huh?” One of her hands rubbed his back and she was a little surprised at how tense the muscles there were. “Who’s got my puppy all twisted up in knots, hmm?”

“Fucking L&L gang. Their work is…  _ familiar.” _

Oh, she knew that tone. “Deacon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going dark tonight?”

The hand on her waist tightened, “Is that a problem?”

“No, but I have to leave in the morning, so...don’t break anything.”

He smiled and she shivered at the way his teeth brushed against her, “Just skin.”

Cass huffed, “That’s what you said when you broke my wrist.”

_ “You _ broke your wrist. I just tied you to the bed.”

“No, you broke my wrist when you flipped me with no warning.”

“Hmm. I don’t really remember that part.”

Of course not. He never remembered when he let the raider that still lived somewhere in the darkest depths of his soul out to play.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” She pushed him away and headed for Hancock’s office, “And wash your hair while you wait. I like it when it gets all curly.”

He grumbled, “Still can’t believe I let you talk me into growing it out.”

Cass flashed him one last grin before she went inside, “Hey, it’s a safety issue. I need a proper handhold. We’ve discussed this.”

“Heh. Yeah, we have.”

Her last view was of Deacon bashfully grinning at the ground while he ran a hand through his wild hair and she chuckled. He really was a sweetheart. Most of the time. Ninety percent sweetheart, ten percent psychopath. Her favorite swirl.

It was kind of amazing how many nice men she found these days that fit that profile.

Hancock was waiting exactly where she’d left him, for once. Pants off, hat on. He’d managed to wiggle out of his coat and had the glazed expression of someone on entirely too much Jet.

She couldn’t say for certain if she loved John. Or Deacon, for that matter, though she'd once been certain that she had with him at least. Certainly the way she felt for them wasn’t at all what she’d felt for her husband; but Cass had come to believe that kind of love, the stars in your eyes, moondust on your tongue kind, was dead. Had been dead since the first bomb dropped.

Deacon made her feel desired. Powerful and helpless in equal measure. Hancock made her feel wanton and wicked. Special. Being one of his girls meant people knew who she was beyond just General Jones or even Mama Cass. Between the two of them, she was able to keep from feeling the two hundred and whatever-whatever years old she actually was.

She’d spent nearly forty years living a life of impeccable respectability and what had it got her? A husband with a hole in his head and a child who grew up to be the world’s biggest asshole. She felt inclined to live a little at this point, and living is what her two boys were all about.

Now if only she could get them to live together was the thing…

“Hey, sexy. Miss me?”

“Sunshine.” His head turned towards her slowly and a wide grin split his face. “There’s my angel.”

“Your tip on MacCready panned out. I think he’s going to work out great.”

“Ah, he’s a good kid.”

She snorted, “Kid is right. I’m surprised he’s out of diapers.”

Hancock chuckled, “He’s young but he’s capable.”

“Hmm.”

“You see Sunglasses outside?”

“Yeah.”

“He still not down?”

“Nope.”

He sighed, “Shame.”

Cass shrugged and shut the door, “Well, whatcha gonna do? He likes what he likes, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I like what I like, too. Usually when I’m the bull, I get to see the cuck in action.”

Her forehead wrinkled, “What?”

His dark eyes found her face and he smiled fondly, “Oh, I forgot. You still don’t know the names for things, you just like what you like, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means get over here and sit on Daddy’s cock, angel. Your puppy’s going hungry as we speak.”

She laughed at that and pulled her dress off over her head. Hancock’s eyes wandered down her figure, all the way down to her feet.

“Leave the heels on.”

“Leave the hat.”

He chuckled and opened his arms as she flowed down onto his lap. They’d been fucking over eight months now. One of his longest relationships ever. Her skin was still the finest, smoothest skin he’d ever touched, even a year out of the vault. He busied himself with tugging her hair out of it’s usual bun and then ran his fingers through it. The blond strands, ranging from platinum to a tawny brown, shimmered in the light and he gathered it in his fist, marveling a little at how it looked like he was holding molten gold.

Cass whined a little and rubbed herself against him, “John?”

“Hmm?”

“Focus.”

He snorted and settled his other hand on her thigh. “I was admiring my girl.”

“Can’t you do that after?”

“True.” His thumb brushed the light brown curls covering her mound. “Think you’ll bring the kid in on rotation?”   


“What? MacCready?”

“Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes a little and ran her hands along the muscles in his chest, “He’s just a baby and I’m not looking to be some little boy’s Mrs. Robinson.”

“Hmm.”

“Why?”

“Just wanted to know if I should be jealous is all.”

“Of him or me?”

Hancock laughed, “Both.”

“You’ve been with him?”

“Not yet. He is young. Seems like he’s only ever thought about fucking this.” His hand left her thigh to delve into the heat between her legs. Two fingers pushed in to the hilt and he grinned at her angry hiss as he stretched her.

“Well, what’s wrong with that? You’re pretty into it, too.”

“I just don’t like to see people limiting themselves.”

Cass laughed and wrapped a hand around his cock, “You aren’t still pouting because I’m not into girls, are you?”

“You ate Magnolia’s pussy like a champ, angel. It really looked like you were enjoying it.”

“What I enjoyed was you fucking me through it.”

“Ah.” He pulled his hand free and brought her mouth down to his for a quick kiss. “Ride me. I wanna see those pretty tits bounce.”

“Poetic. You should write that one down. Have Fahr embroider it on a pillow.” She raised up a bit and scooted forward before lowering herself on his cock, her eyes closing as she took him in just a few shallow inches. “Oh, fuck that’s always so good.”

“Hmm.” Hancock pulled her hips down hard, laughing at the wobbly little sob that left her throat. “Always such a crybaby.”

Cass squirmed on his lap and silently pleaded with her body to adjust quickly, “You’re big and it hurts.”

“Yeah, but you like when it hurts.” His hands were like vices on the soft flesh of her hips, thumbs digging in and anchoring against the bone as he bounced her heavily on his lap. There was a rush of liquid heat on the fourth bounce and a wet slapping sound followed each bounce after. Hancock laughed, “Hear that? That’s a happy cunt right there.”

Her cheeks grew hot. He knew she hated that kind of language. “John…”

“Lean back, angel. I wanna watch.”

She huffed at him until he slapped one of her breasts hard and she felt herself clench down along his length. A little whimper escaped her and his dark laughter just made her that much more wet. She leaned back, putting her hands on his knees for balance, and let him set the pace, trying to swivel her hips a little where she could to absorb some of the force from his thrusting.

One of his hands spread her folds apart and he hungrily watched as she struggled to accommodate his girth. “Shit, look at that. Hard to believe I can even fit in this tight little cunt of yours, Sunshine. I don’t even know where it goes.” He tugged her hair and made her arch a little more sharply against him. “There. Stay like that.”

The new angle was both worse and better. His cock, scored and pocked like the rest of his skin, now forcefully dragged against her g-spot with every thrust, but he was also able to get deeper, slamming into her cervix. The pain had her shivering and she knew she’d have a sore tummy the next day, but she didn’t want it to stop.

His hand dug in hard against her stomach, right in the middle below her belly button, and he laughed. “Oh, shit. I can feel it. Goddamn, angel. Daddy’s really all up in those guts, isn’t he? And you take it all like such a big girl.”

“John, please.”

“Please what, gorgeous?”

“Just...please.”

“Gotta ask for what you want. Use your words.”

She hated this part, too. Doing stuff was easy. Following orders was easy. Even participating in his orgies was easy. Saying it out loud though? Not easy.

“Make me cum.”

“No. You ain’t earned it yet.”

“Please?”

“Tell me how it feels.” His hands drifted along her body, absurdly gentle in contrast to the pain he was filling her with.

“It feels...good.”

“Not what I wanna  _ hear, _ Sunshine. How it  _ actually _ feels.”

Cass tipped her head further back and closed her eyes. Whether it had something to do with her being pre-war or the taboo aspect of fucking a ghoul in general, her body never seemed to want to accept his cock ramming into her. It fought against his invasion every time. Deacon was at least as big, and by the third thrust, she could easily take him. She had no idea why it happened, it just did. Which worked out fine, really. John got the tightest fuck of his life and she got hurt enough that romance wasn’t even an afterthought.

“It hurts.”

“Yeah, it does.” His hands settled back on her hips and he pulled hard on every downbeat, effectively impaling her. His grin was equal parts vicious and tender. “So why do you love it so bad? Hmm? Why do you always come in here begging for it?”

She couldn’t tell him it’s how she stopped herself from falling for him and falling apart. That it was her only defense against his whispered words of setting her up like a princess and devotedly catering to her every need and whim for the rest of his days. She’d already had that. She’d loved that.

She wouldn’t be unfaithful to Ben like that. Not again. Not after how it turned out the last time she gave her heart away.

“I like it.”

Hancock chuckled low and soft and kept his thrusts brutal like she wanted it. This particular little smoothskin had always tied him up in knots inside. He hated how bad he’d hurt her. That when his cum finally leaked out of her, there’d be bright red streaks of blood mixed in. After the first time it had happened, he’d tried to end it. Tried to do the right thing. Apologized profusely and sent her on her way. It hadn’t stuck though. A week later she was right back to being under him, sobbing through one painful orgasm after another as he tore her body apart.

He loved her. He’d loved her right from the start, back when she’d still had an innocent sparkle in her eye and outshone the sun like some kinda beacon. He still loved her even now that the spark had died.

He hadn’t realized just how bad he had it until she’d breached up the Institute and fell into his bed after. She’d even sweet talked him into using his knife on her that first time and he’d done it. Even as his own skin crawled at the way she cried and bled, he’d done it.

He’d do anything for her.

She sucked in a shocked breath and shuddered around him. He didn’t even have to look to know she was already bleeding. There was a place within her that was no longer slick and soft. A burning, rough edge that hadn’t been there at the start.

White hot agony shot through her every time his cock dragged against the tear in her wall. It brought the satisfaction racing along her nerves into sharp relief and she moaned, pressing hard against his lap.

“Hancock…”

“I know, angel.”

“Do it. Please?”

He bit back a sigh and ran his hands reverently along her skin. What he wouldn’t give to have a whole night with this one. Two bottles of wine and some candles. He’d show her she didn’t need the pain to feel the pleasure. Not that she’d ever let that happen, but a ghoul could dream.

“Psycho or Buffout?”

She whined in a way that had once made him feel powerful and desired, but now only made his nerves worse, “Both. I need it bad.”

Shit. Well, he probably needed a new bed anyway.

“In a minute.”

He wanted something else first. His arms wrapped around her and brought her up out of the cruel arch he’d forced her into. A hand sank carefully into her hair to hold her in place and his other settled around her waist while he gently rocked up into her. The effect was immediate. Cass started squirming and trying to move harder against him. Maybe even trying to bolt now that things had turned soft. The arm around her waist tightened its hold, pinning her to his chest.

“Shhh, Sunshine. Let Daddy have this.” Hancock shushed her and nibbled at her neck.

He’d started doing this a few months ago. Sneaking in slow moments; stolen moments where he tried to tell her without words how he felt. Tried to cast her a lifeline.

She was going to die. He’d seen it happen a million times. She lived life hard and fast and loud now, and the wasteland didn’t allow for that. Someday, she’d go too far, fuck with the wrong asshole, or be fucked by the wrong asshole, and that’d be it. He’d wait for her to skip back through his gate and she just wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure what that was going to do to him, so in the interest of keeping himself sane, he had to try. Had to keep trying to save her from herself.

“My pretty baby. Such a good girl. Good, sweet girl.”

Cass stared hard at the wall behind them and tried to blank her mind as he cooed at her, ignoring the tears trying to gather in her eyes. She hated that he had this side to him. The sexy king of the zombies thing was enough. Why’d he have to be a romantic, too?

“You feel so good, angel. So hot and tight for Daddy.”

He really shouldn’t love it as much as he did, but he did. Every time felt like the first time with her. Like she was some mythical perpetual virgin he couldn’t stop ravishing. If he were a better man, he’d hate himself for it.

Instead he buried his face against her neck, forcibly moving her in long, slow passes over his cock until the swooping feel in his stomach found a home in his balls and he swelled within her before erupting. She gasped as his hot cum burned the wound inside her and finally held onto him, arms wrapping around his neck as she cried.

Hancock listened to her soft sobbing and kept his face hidden until he was sure he could hold the facade of ruthless dominant in place. When her cries faded into hiccupping breaths, he pulled her back by her hair and shot her a grin.

“Such a good little slut, angel. On the bed, on your knees.”

Her sudden smile was brilliant and dimpled. The same one that had once sold a million movie tickets and earned her the somewhat dubious distinction of being called ‘the next Sandra Dee’. It broke his heart.

Across town in Cass's little studio apartment above the Memory Den, Deacon carefully set up their cozy little love shack for the evening's festivities.

There was already a crate of canned water under the bed. And a box of Stimpaks. Just in case.

Well, no, not just in case. Rather, for the inevitable. He’d only told her to pick some up as a warning. Give her a chance to come to her senses and skip out on him altogether.

She wouldn’t, of course, but he still made the effort.

He and Cass, dear little agent Charmer to the Railroad, hadn’t always had such an… unique relationship. In the early days, when she’d been a recently widowed, grieving mother, he’d been all too happy to remain her platonic best bud until the end of time and she’d seemed grateful for his company. Then he and his fellow idiots had let her go in that infernal teleporter to the Institute and when she’d come back, she’d been… different. Darker. Ruined.

She’d come on to him then. About a week after she’d returned. After she’d finished crying in his arms about what a tool her son was and how much she and her sainted husband had sacrificed for him only to be met with this horror. He could still remember the vulnerable, broken way she’d looked up at him. Her eyes had been so empty but still as compelling as ever, and he’d almost succumbed. Almost let himself be that asshole and take advantage of her. Especially after feeling how soft her lips were and hearing the needy little noises she made when his tongue had slipped into her mouth of its own accord.

But he hadn’t. Deacon knew all too well what a bad idea it was to indulge her misguided notions of what they were. He’d panicked at the idea of potentially losing her altogether, and ultimately done what he still thought was the noble thing, gently rebuffing her. Ignored the way she cried and claimed to love him. For her own good because she was obviously just scared and confused. Told her he wanted to give her time to grieve and mourn and then maybe they could see what happened in the future. He’d been a gentleman for once in his godforsaken life.

It hadn’t had the intended effect. It had just crystallized that messy soup of emotions she’d been drowning in into something he couldn’t chip through even nine months later. Cass had ricocheted right off of that rejection and into Hancock’s bed.

He chalked it up to a lesson learned.

By the time he’d caught up with her, she’d already let the mayor do unspeakable things to her body. Cuts still fresh, soaked in pain, barely able to walk. He’d been ready to go to war with the whole damn town until she’d told him it was all consensual. That Hancock had actually safeworded out on her.

That was a first as far as he knew.

He’d tried to reach her then. Soft words and sweet caresses as he carefully tended to her wounds. Reclaiming what should have always been his. He’d used his tongue to try to clean away the sticky remnants of her time with Hancock like he could somehow erase the shadow that now enshrined her once bubbly spirit. That hadn’t worked either. She’d watched him with disdain and mocked the way he fretted over her bruises and bite marks.

Her laughter was what had done it. Bleak, cruel, soul-crushing. Mean girl laughter, like out of one of her earlier movies. Back when they’d kept miscasting her as the bully when clearly she was the sweetheart type. He’d been propelled right back into the head space that had allowed him to join the Deathclaws as an angry young man. The place that encouraged him to do terrible things and hurt good people; and there was no one who embodied goodness more than Cass.

He went dark for the first time. Total blackout. Beat the laughter right out of her. Tied her to the bed when she’d tried to escape. Fucked her every way he could. Tormented and teased and punished until he’d finally snapped out of it. He’d come to with a hand wrapped around her throat and the end of Deliverer buried in her cunt while she sobbed and begged him to let her go.

Deacon had, of course. Immediately. Apologized a million times and fully planned on shooting himself in the head the moment he was alone when she’d laughed again. Laughed and almost sounded like her old self, for just a split second. Gently teased him about all post-war men being pansies and peacefully, willingly curled up in his arms like they were on their goddamn honeymoon.

That was the moment he realized pain and degradation was the only way he had to reach her anymore. The real Cass,  _ his _ Cass, was still down in there somewhere. Lost and afraid. He just had to find a way to pull her out for real. Hopefully a way that didn’t kill her.

Thus had begun their cycle. If he found her out in the wastes, all bets were off. He’d forcibly take her wherever he could. Sometimes right out in the open against a rock or a boxcar or whatever. Just daring something bigger and scarier to try and take them on. Pushing her to her physical limits to try and tease the genuine her out. The sweet kisses and soft murmurs she rewarded him with after every time were the only things keeping him from losing his fucking mind most days.

But in Goodneighbor, things were different. Goodneighbor was Hancock’s turf and here he ruled supreme. Cass kept reenacting their first night together over and over. Bouncing into the mayor’s bed for however long it took to satisfy that particular itch, then back to him for cleanup and punishment.

Deacon couldn’t exactly say he was happy with the whole arrangement. He didn’t mind being thought of as a cuckold or whatever Hancock assumed was happening here, but he knew the ghoul wanted more. Wanted at least to have him under his thumb, too. That just wasn’t going to happen. He had no desire for either of them to end up as some kind of long term pets.

He’d seen how he looked at her. Those dark eyes going all sappy and soft when she wasn’t looking. Hancock had it bad for his Sunshine. Real bad. No doubt constantly tried to woo her away.

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t going to happen, either. Hancock only gave her a tiny part of what she wanted. He might be the undisputed king of debauchery, but Deacon was so far beyond his upper limits for depravity at this point that they weren’t even playing the same game anymore. He did awful, unforgivable things to their girl. Things he’d kill another man for. Things he  _ had _ killed other men for.

Pain was all she understood right now, and all she needed from him. So he’d give it to her. He’d relish in his doting puppy routine, of course, since that was far closer to how he actually wanted things to be, but then he’d suck it up and break her back into nothing. Just like she liked it.

He’d literally do anything if he could just get her to show even a tenth of the pure emotion she had that first time she’d approached the Railroad. When she’d collapsed in a sobbing heap in front of Dez and the crew, begging for help. Begging them to save her baby, save her. He’d seen all her movies by that point and knew what a damn fine little actress she could be, but that moment? That had been _ real. _ Real and beautiful and he’d lost his heart to her on the spot. Firmly resolved to secretly carrying a torch for the rest of his days. Working as hard as he could to ensure her life got it’s happily ever after before the end credits rolled.

That hadn't exactly worked out though. Instead he’d sent her off with a half-assed joke and a wave into a place that had broken his golden girl into something grotesque and nearly unrecognizable.

It was his fault. He’d known. No one ever came back from the Institute. Her baby was gone the second those assholes broke into their vault. She was gone the second he’d let her get on that fucking teleporter pad.

He could still remember that last hopeful smile she’d shot him. So brave and innocent and trusting.

There had to be a way to bring that smile back. Had to. He just had to find it. Really commit and dig deep into her psyche through this covert path he’d found in the violence.

Deacon paused and stared down at the piano wire in his hands. Flexible, shining, unbreakable. It always looked so pretty wrapped around her. Elegant dark lines would bloom beneath it and vicious little cuts where she struggled too hard. He allowed himself one self-deprecating chuckle before he went back to work.

Lying to himself had become the norm. It used to be he kept the lies on the outside, like a suit of armor. He missed those days.

Truth was, he needed this as much as she did. Part of him had died somewhere along the way. There was a time when he’d get the urge to hurt something, or someone, and he’d just bug out for a bit. Slip on some raider disguise and find a group to destroy from the inside out. It had always satisfied the itch and no one who mattered ever had to know just how dark and dirty his soul really was.

Nowadays though… not so much.

Especially with this new, anti-synth gang that had sprung up since the Institute had fallen. They were merciless and cruel.  _ Brutal. _ Run by Captain Sally and her own little puppy on a chain, Johnny T. Walters. He’d watched them from a distance once. Too far for a bullet but close enough to thoroughly enjoy the way they tore into each other after torturing and killing some poor sap.

There but for the grace of God goes Charmer and Deacon.

Well… no, actually, they  _ had _ gone there. He’d gone straight from that recon mission to Hangman’s Alley, where he knew the General was mending some stupid thing. Dragged her around the corner by her hair and fucked her hard against a dumpster, ultimately shoving his cock down her throat like he always did when she got a little too mouthy for his liking.

They’d spent the night in the Alley, snuggled into the same sleeping bag. Her voice had been hoarse and ruined. She could barely stand to swallow plain water. He’d been fighting the urge to just walk off a roof, but she’d purred herself to sleep in his arms. The good morning kiss and soft smile she’d given him at dawn made it seem like it had never happened. That’s how it always went.

They almost never spoke of the violence that occurred between them. If they did, it was light and silly. The way Cass had gently fussed at him for breaking her wrist, for example, you’d have thought he just accidentally bumped into her or something.

No big deal. He’d just snapped hard enough that he hadn’t even noticed shattering a bone in her body. Couldn’t even remember all the details of how it had happened or what came after. He only remembered unlocking the cuffs and being confused at how carefully she’d cradled her arm. The sweetly timid way she’d crawled into his lap while he administered yet another stim and held on as hard as he could to the flickering light in her eyes. The softness there when he’d placed a careful kiss over the injection site.

Deacon wondered, a little more every day, what life might have been like if he hadn’t fucked this up, too. If he’d accepted the tiny kernel of guilt and just kept kissing her that first time. Just let go of the decency he’d been trying so hard to cultivate and gone with his baser impulses.

Would he have been able to keep her from crumbling? Maybe. Probably not, but maybe. Certainly their time together now would be different though. They wouldn’t be locked in this unhealthy cycle. This seemingly endless give and take where he exorcised the demons of his past on her body and she used that pain to beat back everything that was eating her alive inside.

And he damn sure wouldn’t have to share her with Hancock of all people.

The elevator dinged behind him and he turned, the usual liar’s smile plastered on his face, just as she stumbled out of it smelling of sex and cigarettes. Her hair was still a mess and she was unsteady on her feet, but her face was serene and smooth. Untouchable. She was still floating somewhere so far removed from emotions that she may as well have been carved from ice.

Which meant it was showtime. It was now his turn to bring this wayward angel back down to Earth.

Lucky him.


	2. There Will Be No Encores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all like playlists, right? Have a playlist! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/35s7APxRsdEFdGXEAxDxn6
> 
> Thank you to everybody for your support thus far! Remember: Comments keep the lights on in my heart! Also, I love each and every one of you. Truly. You guys are so supportive & great! ❤
> 
> (Also the song 'Coconut Countess' is a nod to the classic 'Pineapple Princess'. 👍)

Mac had been camped out on the bench outside the State House for over an hour. His right foot had been tapping impatiently for the better part of that hour, but he was trying to play it as cool as possible.

Cass hadn’t actually given him a specific time to meet up. He’d realized that sometime after he’d jerked off to the memory of her walking away. The way she glided along in those ridiculous heels and the way her hips had swayed as she went was the stuff dreams were made of. Very wet dreams, actually. But that was last night, when he was still mostly on his own time. Now he was on her time and she was the boss and that was that.

Not that he was opposed to mixing business with pleasure, but if the job went that way, it was gonna cost her extra. Only an idiot put out for free.

He checked his watch for what had to be the twentieth time and bit back an impatient sigh. Guess he’d gotten up early and shined his boots for nothing. He normally wouldn’t even have bothered but she seemed the type to notice shit like that.

A flash of light and movement by the Den, odd for so early, caught his attention. Cass was just exiting the alleyway, clearly moving slow this morning. A cynical smirk on her lips as she slipped on a pair of sunglasses.

They didn’t do a thing to hide the shiner she was sporting. Or the dark bruising down her cheek. There was a pretty knitted scarf, brown and white stripes, wrapped snugly around her neck and he would bet all the ammo he’d just picked up that it was hiding marks, too.

The rest of her was so unassuming and bland as to be ridiculous. She almost melted into the background. Flannel shirt, plain leather jacket, jeans, boots, old pack on her shoulders. If the rising sun hadn’t lit up her hair like a shining halo, he’d never have even noticed her.

Or if he had, he’d have let his eyes kindly slide away. Women all across the wastes wore bruises like she did. They never came from happy places.

He was kinda surprised though. Hancock hadn’t seemed like that kind of asshole from his dealings with him. Then again, some men had an entirely different mindset when it came to women, so who knew, really?

Anyway, she was a lady with an army, right? She had power behind her. If she wanted to walk away, she could. It was no business of his if she, for whatever reason, let herself get slapped around a little.

He watched as she made her way over. A little stiff but loosening up with every step and he found himself having to work at keeping his face carefully neutral.

So, okay… she’d been slapped around a  _ lot. _ That bruise on her face was way worse when it was close up. It made an odd sense of protectiveness swell within him and he immediately downgraded Hancock from solid bro to punk-ass motherfucker in his mind.

“Hey.”

Cass smiled sunnily at him. It looked absurd alongside the blacks and blues, but at least her teeth were still intact. “Hey, you! How was your night?”

“Fine.”

She seemed to be waiting for him to ask about her own evening and filled the void with a lie when he didn’t. “Fell in my own damn apartment, can you believe it?” She pointed at her face. “Bam! Right in the kisser.”

There were ligature marks on her wrist. Sharp edges. Not from a rope. Some kind of wire or a cord. Mac had seen raiders do shit like that. He wondered if she even noticed the pain they must be causing. Had to be dwarfed by the throbbing in her face. No doubt. Atom only knew the pain she was carrying elsewhere.

He wanted to tell her she didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserved that shit. She was cute and funny and didn’t have to put up with somebody who’d hurt her. A year ago, the man he’d been would have. Instead, he simply absorbed the obvious lie and shrugged.

“Gotta watch yourself a little better there, boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m never this clumsy in the field.” She paused, “Well… almost never.”

His eyes narrowed a little. That wasn’t a lie. Odd. “Hmm.”

“I’m gonna go get your caps and then we’ll head out, okay? It’ll be just a minute.”

Fucking hell. She was just going to throw herself right back into the lion’s den. Maybe Hancock had knocked a few screws loose in this one after all.

Mac made a split second decision and stood, stretching, “Nah. It’s cool. I know you’re good for it.”

A little line appeared between her brows, “What?”

He picked up his own pack and rifle and shrugged them both on. “Be a pain in the a-butt to carry a bunch of extra caps around. Just… you know, write it down or whatever.”

“Like an IOU?”   


“Sure, boss.”

“Huh.” She looked him up and down carefully, “You’re a lot different than what I imagined a mercenary would be like… and your boots look fabulous, by the way.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. She’d noticed. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” She finally looked away from his shiny shoes to the balcony above them and wrinkled her nose. “I guess it would be a little early for poking the bear…”

The smile that could have been died before it even had a chance. “Hmm.”

“Alright, well… let’s go, then.”

Cass lead them out of Goodneighbor and he felt a little lighter with every step they took from the place. When they finally turned a corner and the roof of the State House was no longer visible, he actually sighed with relief.

They walked along in companionable silence until the river. She pointed at the bridge first.

“That’s Longfellow Bridge.”

“Okay.”

“It crosses the Charles, of course.”

Geography lessons. Great. “Sure.”

“We’re headed out to Cambridge today. Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

“Well, it used to be very nice, but now it seems to be a magnet for ferals. I’ve got kind of a standing agreement with a group there to come through every once in a while and clear them out.”

He swallowed and felt his hands tighten on his rifle strap. “Underground, or…?”

“Oh, no. No no no. I don’t  _ do _ the metro. Never did. If they want that cleared, they can do it them damn selves.”

Whew. Close. Ferals out in the open were no big deal. Especially in the harsh light of day when they just looked sad and pathetic in the seconds before he blew their heads off. “Okay, cool.”

“Anyway, it’s just up Broadway. We can camp at the little diner there after. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“I thought we were hunting Gunners.”

“Oh, we are, dear heart. We absolutely are!”

She grinned at him over her shoulder. The good side of her face. He suddenly realized he’d seen her somewhere else. Not Boston. Somewhere else entirely. Bright sun. Palm trees. Blue water.

Where the hell had it been?

“So why the ferals?”

“Well, think of this as a little test run of sorts. I need to know if we’re compatible out here and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

Yeah. Yeah, he understood plenty. People heard 'merc' and they thought of a grizzled, tough,  _ older  _ sonofabitch. He couldn’t even grow a full beard yet, so people tended to underestimate his skills.

Which was fine. He’d prove himself, maybe earn a bonus, and then they could go take out the second biggest roadblock to his mission here in the Commonwealth.

Cass was still watching him, slowing until they were essentially walking side by side. “So, do you prefer to be called RJ or MacCready or…”

“Mac is fine.”

“Mac, then.” She smiled again. “And what brings a handsome young man like you up north, Mac? Not cold enough in the Capital Wasteland for you?”

“Uh… well, you know how it is.” He shrugged, “Just came up here for work. Didn’t I already tell you that?”

“Did you? Hmm… well, that makes sense. I’ve heard the Brotherhood have just about strangled all the life out of DC. It’s probably good that you got out when you did.”

He tried to not think about the friends he’d left behind and nodded, “Yeah.”

“I’m not from here originally, either.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. Born in New York, raised in California. Settled down in Boston because my husband’s family was from here.”

Oh, right. He’d asked Clair at the Rexford for any back issues of the newspaper the night before. He’d wanted to know the kind of person he was working for. Cass was pre-war. A vault dweller on top of everything else. He’d almost forgotten that.

“You ever ride in an airplane?”

She laughed, “Only all the time. I had enough frequent flyer miles to circle the globe twice.”

“What was it like?”

“At the time? Annoying. There were tickets to be bought and bags to be packed and you had to check in and it was this huge production. But, looking back on it, it was wonderful. Being up above the clouds was magical.” She tilted her head up at the endless blue. “I once flew on a red-eye out of New York and it was overcast, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait. Do you even know what a red-eye was?”

“I’ve had a red-eye shift as lookout before. Means overnight, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. So anyway, we take off and start to climb. Up up up." Her hand was apparently an airplane now, complete with swooshing effects, like she was telling the story to a child. "Rain on the windows, the rumble of thunder. A little turbulence when we went through the clouds but then we were above them and there were so many stars. The moon lit up the clouds below us and made it look like an endless field of snow.” She sighed, “It was so beautiful. I stared at it for a few seconds and then just… turned away. Went right to sleep. I was a jerk. We were all jerks. Couldn’t appreciate shit back then.”

“Most people never appreciate the good times until they end.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” A rare look of melancholy crossed her face for a split second and then was gone as quickly as it appeared. “So! Are you free or taken?”

Jeez, she was just gonna get right to it. “Uh…”

“Because I know several very nice, available young ladies and quite a few young men, as well. Robots. Super mutants. Ghouls. Synths of all makes and models. Whatever your preference is. You like redheads? I’ve got a friend --”

Oh. “No. No, that’s… I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“Ah. I get it. You wanna play the field a bit, hmm? They do say its a young man’s game.”

Mac chuckled, “Not quite, just… focused on other things at the moment.”

“Oh.” She pouted at him for a minute and then shrugged, “Well, alright. But if you change your mind, let me know. I’m a matchmaker from way back.”

“I bet.”

“So, tell Mama a little about yourself, babydoll. Come on.” She nudged his arm, “Brooding, mysterious mercenary from out of town. There’s a story there, I bet.”

“Nah, not really.”

“Oh, the strong, silent type, too, huh? Hmm… maybe I’ll just make something up then.” Cass stared into space for a few minutes and then clapped her hands. “Okay, I’ve got it! Here we go!”

“Uh…”

“Once upon a time, there was a prince who lived in a terrible land called the District of Columbia. _Blech!”_

Now he was supposed to be a prince? Was she actually interested or not? It was hard to get a read on her. Little too chaotic.

“The young prince was…”, she looked him over carefully. “Dashing. Clearly intelligent. Brave.  _ Devastatingly _ handsome.”

Mac cleared his throat a little and kept his gaze averted. The last person to compliment him so openly like this had been his wife. He was hoping his hat would hide most of the heat in his face. Her giggle let him know he was busted.

“And _ modest.” _ Her eyes sparkled, “Interesting… anyway! The prince was beloved by all, of course. For how could they not adore such a wonderful man? But one day, a terrible wind blew through the wastes! Bringing with it a maelstrom of… of… garden gnomes!”

She talked with her hands a lot. Big sweeping gestures that somehow involved her whole body. Sometimes even twirling as she did it. It was distracting as hell and ought to be annoying but was somehow charming on her.

“Garden gnomes?"

"Oh, they were awful! They rained down from the sky, cruel and merciless in their attempts to… uh… to terraform the planet!”

He almost laughed. It sounded like the plot from a comic. “What?”

“Yes! Those crafty, evil gnomes had a bloodlust for swampland and were determined to repopulate the Capital Wasteland with endless mosquitoes, er, I mean bloodbugs and… um… gators!”

A small chuckled finally escaped him, “Gators?”

“Yes! Radgators! The worst kind!” She bared her teeth, growling and snarling at him, hands raised up, curled into claws. “Vicious, terrible things! Once they bite, they never let go!”

“I’m pretty sure that’s snapping turtles. Do radgators even exist?”

“Oh! A nonbeliever!” She grinned at him, “Well, if radgators aren’t real as I say they are, then what’s that right behind you?”

Before he even realized what a stupid idea it was, he checked his six out of an abundance of caution and habit. Cass immediately jumped onto his back and set her teeth in his shoulder.

_ “Grrr!” _

“Hey! What the sh- what are you doing!?” He shoved her off and rubbed his shoulder, scowling. She had surprisingly sharp teeth on her.

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Oh, sorry. Sorry! Got a little carried away. It happens.”

“Well it better not happen again!”

The smile turned into a pout, “Did I hurt your shoulder?”

He immediately stopped rubbing it. “No.”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

_ “No… _ are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

Yup. She was. Wonderful. “I should’ve asked for more caps.”

“That’s probably true.”

They walked along, disgruntled silence and seething on his side. He couldn’t say what she was feeling, and he definitely didn’t care. Woman was bat-crap crazy as far as he could see.

Still. She’d paid him his asking price, so he sullenly followed her through Boston. He kept his eyes scanning the buildings around them and off her as much as possible, since just looking at her made him irritated at this point. They were passing some old, abandoned park next to a graveyard and he almost completely missed the way she suddenly came to a halt.

He stopped, too, and waited for instructions. None came. She was just staring at the old headstones. It was making him nervous, standing out in the open like this. He willed away the urge to fidget and spoke instead.

“Friends of yours?”

Cass started like she’d forgotten he was there at all. “What?”

Mac motioned to the cemetery. “Over there. You got friends buried there or whatever?”

“Oh… I…”

For the first time since he’d met her, her sparkle was dulled. Muted. He realized it had all been window dressing. Some big act. This her, the one with the haunted eyes and trembling lower lip,  _ that _ was the real Cass.

She took a deep breath and flashed him a sassy smile, “No, not friends. In-laws. It’s complicated. I’m sure you’ll understand one day when you’re grown.”

He watched her take the lead again and frowned to himself, muttering. “I  _ am _ grown.”

Her silence felt different now. Before he’d just assumed she was off in LaLaLand, but now he found himself inexplicably worried about what must be going on in her head. The articles in the Publick had painted a picture of a grief stricken, but hopeful, widow and mother. Someone strong and resourceful. A guiding light for the Commonwealth. The way Piper had written it, the so-called Sole Survivor was a chipper champion of right and overall model citizen.

Clearly that hadn’t been the whole story.

Mac tried to put himself in her shoes to get a better understanding of the situation here. Just so he could more easily predict her line of thinking, of course. It wasn’t too hard. She’d lost her husband just like he’d lost his wife. Forced to watch and powerless to stop it. She’d had her baby taken away by the Institute, he had some unknown disease trying to do the same to his son.

She’d built an empire from nothing in an extremely short amount of time. Liberated synths and destroyed the Institute. Brought the Railroad out of hiding and now they and the Minutemen both openly patrolled the Commonwealth. Somehow convinced the Brotherhood to be satisfied with their temporary outpost at the airport. That showed she had to be strong-willed and persuasive as fuck.

And she was dating, or at least fucking, the mayor of the wealthiest settlement around. Getting the stuffing beat out of herself, of course, but she clearly kept coming back, right? If this had been the first time and if she’d really not wanted it, given what he knew about her thus far, she’d have either run to her allies or rained down fire and brimstone. Right?

Consensual beat downs. Was that a thing? Or was Hancock actually charming enough to get away with slapping her around whether she wanted it or not?

She finally glanced back at him and laughed at whatever face he was making. “Goodness gracious, honey. If you aren’t careful, your face will freeze that way, you know.”

He immediately looked away and shrugged, “Okay.”

“What’s got your goat, kiddo?”

“Nothing.” He chanced a look at her and sighed when he saw she was still staring at him. “Doesn’t your face hurt? Maybe you should rest today or… whatever.”

Her eyes went a little soft and she smiled, “Ah, you really are a sweetheart deep down, huh? That’s dangerous, baby love. Especially in your line of work.” When he didn’t respond she turned back to the road and shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Barely even notice it. Don’t worry about it.”

Yeah, that’s what he kept telling himself, but for some reason he just couldn’t let it go. “Must have been a hell of a fall.”

“Hmm… well. That’s just what I get for keeping such dangerous… things around. Lots of sharp edges. Nobody to blame but myself.”

He gritted his teeth a little. She really did think it was her fault. So Hancock actually  _ was _ that kinda guy then. Fucker.

“Maybe you should, you know,  _ redecorate.” _

“What?”

“You know, throw out the old stuff. Find some better… things. Stuff that won’t hurt you.”

She nodded, “Yeah, that’s good advice… of course, this is the wasteland, right? Is there anything here that doesn’t hurt? Have you found it?” Her eyes met his over her shoulder again and she gave him a half smile. “Cause I sure haven’t.”

Shit. “Boss, look, you --”

“Hey, check it out! There’s the diner.” She pointed at a small building up ahead with a bright red door. “Wanna grab a bite before we tackle the ferals? Place used to be famous for their waffles.”

“Sure.” He was actually going to enjoy killing ferals today. Maybe if he squinted real hard, he could make them look like a certain asshole who damn well better hope their paths never crossed outside of Goodneighbor.

The Campus Diner had weathered the passage of time surprisingly well, in Mac’s opinion. Sturdy brick walls, intact roof, no skittering creatures inside.

He was kind of surprised no one was living in it, actually.

There was a simple kind of camp already set up inside. A footlocker full of preserved food and clean water. Sleeping bags curled up in an old trunk. There was even boxes of matches next to the lanterns. Cass lit one and set it up on the counter before moving into the kitchen.

Mac set his stuff down and did his best to look an appropriate level of disinterested. “You use this spot a lot?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say a lot. Maybe once every couple of months.”

“The group you do this for couldn’t put you up somewhere nicer?” The place was fine for a jerk like him, but somebody like  _ her? _ Whoever came up with this arrangement ought to be ashamed of themselves.

She snorted, “No, they could not, because I won’t let them.” Her face appeared through the service window and she grinned at him. “They’re a little too bossy for my tastes. Remember that. Out here, I’m the big kahuna, alright?”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face again. God, she was so familiar. He was going to figure this out. “Sure, boss.”

_ “Big kahuna. _ I wanna hear you say it.”

“Sure, big kahuna.”

Cass laughed and went back to whatever she was working on. “Can’t believe you actually said it.”

His normal impulse, to say something rude and snarky, was strangely absent with her. Had been since this morning. It bothered him a little that he actually cared about her feelings, but that was probably just some residual instinct left over from when he hadn’t been the scum of the earth, right? Maybe once you got used to taking care of a woman, it made you want to take care of all women. Or maybe he just wasn’t so far gone enough yet to pick on someone who clearly didn’t need any added stress on their plate.

“You want me to do anything? Check the perimeter or something?”

“Nope, just have a seat. I’m almost done. This hot plate works better than you’d think.”

Hot plate? “Okay.” She hadn’t mentioned feeding him, and he’d stocked up before they’d left, so he dug out some jerky from his pack and picked the cleanest booth he could find to flop down into.

Cass emerged with two steaming bowls, eyes on their rims to make sure she didn’t spill any. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then frowned and gave the nearby jukebox a hip bump. It flickered to life and she nodded to herself.

“There. That’s what was wrong. Too damn quiet.”

He watched her set the bowls down, and reluctantly took the spoon she handed to him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I have jerky.”

“Darlin’, no offense or anything, but you  _ are _ jerky. Please eat.”

“I can pay you back.”

Cass finally looked up at the face of her newly acquired merc. There was some kind of anxiety there, like he thought this was a trick or a trap. It absolutely killed her to see that look on someone so young and she smiled gently at him.

“There’s no need. I wanted to feed you and now I am.”

“But --”

“Who am I, Mac?”

“What?”

She waggled her eyebrows at him, “Who am I?”

He searched her face, trying to figure out what she wanted to hear, and then sighed heavily, looking away and mumbling. “The big kahuna.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She leaned forward and grinned at the way his eyes involuntarily went to her bosom before he jerked them back up to hers. That sudden blush when he realized he’d been caught was quite possibly the cutest thing she’d seen since the Abernathy’s cat had kittens.

Ah. Youth.

“You’re the big kahuna.”

“You’re damn right I am. So eat.” She stirred her stew around for a minute, acting like she was looking for the perfect bite while she studied him from under her lashes.

He really was handsome in a boyish sort of way. Still growing, obviously. Already taller than her by more than a head. The lanky look to him spoke of a recent growth spurt. Once he filled out though, hoo boy. Gonna be a looker.

She didn’t quite have a handle on his personality just yet, but he seemed blessed with near infinite natural patience. An almost unheard of trait in modern men. Her dramatic performance, complete with unwanted, borderline aggressive contact, had barely even earned her a proper scolding. He’d been careful and kind and downright gentlemanly, really. Especially for a contract killer. Passed that test with flying colors.

Piper would  _ love _ him.

Oh, and those baby blues.  _ God, _ their kids would have the prettiest eyes. Cheekbones, too.

Speaking of cheekbones, hers was  _ killing _ her and she was absolutely going to kill Deacon for it. In the moment, sure, it had been great. A swift, backhanded blow that made her see stars. She’d relished the wave of pain that followed. Cutting right down to the center of her, temporarily alleviating the constant guilt she carried. Welcomed, wanted, necessary. Absolution, however fleeting, was her chem du jour these days.

But he knew how she felt about the face stuff. Plus now she had this little boy all riled up and overly protective of her. Which was the last thing she needed.

She’d already seen the railsigns. If he really thought she was going to prance out there and let him…

Okay, well, she would. She knew it, he knew it. She didn’t like admitting it, though, and she definitely wasn’t going to go down without a fight about it.

Anyway, a kid Mac's age shouldn’t be exposed to such things yet. It could permanently influence his psyche. She couldn’t have that. Especially since he seemed to be a rare gentle soul in a world of violence and aggression.

The whole point of her arrangement with Deacon was so the damage was contained in her and only her. No one else was supposed to get exposed to the poison that had seeped into her heart. Unsullied little sweethearts like Mac just shouldn't be involved.

A small, irritated huff accidentally escaped her and he immediately looked up. “What’s wrong?”

Cass met his gaze and almost flinched away from the genuine concern there. The transparent sincerity. Bouncing between a professional charmer and a charming liar had made her forget what that looked like.

Such serious eyes in a face weathered far too young. There was absolutely a story there. She wouldn’t push though. Mac seemed like he’d been pushed around enough already.

“Codsworth didn’t use nearly enough of those honey mesquite pods in this. I dunno how many times I’ve told him. I like a little spice with my stew, you know?”

“Oh...it’s good though. I mean, I think it’s... it tastes fine to me. Thanks. Thanks for letting me… I mean, it’s… it’s good.”

Cass found herself smiling again. His attempt at manners was sweet. Something about him just made her want to wrap him in a quilt and shove as many cookies as he’d allow down his throat. Poor little baby.

“I’ll pass your compliments to the chef. Or you could, if you ever meet him. He’s kinda hard to miss. Big. Shiny. Wears a dapper sort of hat.”

That adorable confused puppy look was back, complete with head tilt. “Oh! I get it. Codsworth is a Mister Handy, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Nice. Fancy. Those things cost a fortune.”

“Yeah, they always have, but it was that or starve, so… worth it.”

Mac chuckled, almost too soft for her to catch. He seemed to be the type to think he wasn’t allowed to have fun on the job. That silly tough guy mask he liked to wear was always so serious and grumpy. It didn’t suit him at all.

She’d have to fix that, wouldn’t she?

A few hours later and Mac found himself set up in the partially collapsed staircase of an apartment building overlooking the square. Ferals shuffled around, moaning in that eerie way they had. It made his trigger finger itchy, but Cass had said to wait for the signal.

She hadn’t said what the signal was, exactly, but from what he’d seen of her so far, it was sure to be big and loud.

He’d counted maybe forty lost souls wandering aimlessly below him before he gave up. It was a lot. Not quite big enough to form one of those strange hive mind swarms they sometimes did, but enough to be a problem for somebody. Cass’s thoughtless, bossy friends or acquaintances or whatever.

The shimmer of a Stealth Boy deactivating on the rooftop of the small newspaper stand in the middle of the square caught his eye and he focused on it with his scope. Cass stood in the late afternoon sunshine, making no effort to conceal herself now that she had unassailable high ground. She must have walked right through the crowd. Fuck. Invisible or not, that took balls.

Mac watched her blow a few kisses to the ferals snarling up at her before she started fiddling with her Pipboy. A song he didn't recognize suddenly floated on the air, quiet from his post but it had to be loud as hell where she was.

It drew a whole new wave of ferals out of the buildings surrounding the square. He was too stupefied by the sight of his boss dancing around, singing her heart out and snapping her fingers to realize this was probably the signal. He wasn’t even able to appreciate the wiggly way her ass jiggled as her hips swiveled around. That wasn’t fair.

Bait. She was using herself as live bait. Making ungodly amounts of noise and doing some kind of ridiculous bop. It actually took her turning to glare in his direction, an exasperated sort of look on her face while she pointedly tapped her Pipboy with her other hand like it was a watch for him to start shooting.

Right. The mission. Clearing the square. Didn’t want to lose the light.

Round after round flew through the air as her audience thrashed and wailed around her. It didn’t seem to bother her at all. Not even when one of their outstretched hands would brush against her ankle and give Mac a fucking heart attack.

One even managed to pull her over a few inches before it’s head exploded. That gave him pause. It was on the other side of her makeshift stage. He hadn’t been able to take that shot.

Then she turned and he finally noticed some kind of silenced automatic in her hand and breathed a small sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t dumb enough to do this completely unarmed.

Still pretty fucking stupid though.

It took nearly thirty minutes to clear them all. Mac’s shoulder was actually starting to ache. Probably a few too many nights stuck in the Third Rail between too few jobs. Cass whistled sharply a few times once the show was over, but nothing else came out. It was finally just them and the corpses.

Mac left his post and practically flew down the stairs, anger taking over once the fear had passed. She was still sitting pretty as you please on top of the building, legs dangling off the side with her head tilted up to watch the first stars of twilight.

Cass heard him huffing and puffing her way and smiled to herself. She didn’t even have to look at him to know he’d be in a state. Probably foaming at the mouth by now.

Time for test two.

He finally came to a halt outside the ring of dead ferals and planted his feet, hands on his hips while he scowled up at her. She did her best to keep the fond smile off her face as she watched him watching her.

She liked this one. No two ways about it.

“Nice shootin’, partner. Pew pew!” She blasted him with her finger guns before winking.

“What the heck was that!?”

“Which part?”

“All of it!”

“Ah… well, the song was called ‘Coconut Countess’. Not one of my favorites, but still fun. Catchy. They seemed to enjoy it, anyway.” She waved carelessly at the bodies. “The dance is a little something called the Skate. I can teach you, if you’d like. More men should know how to dance.”

“That is not what I’m --”

“As for the maneuver we just pulled, it’s from a very old book called ‘The Thirty-Six Strategies’. Specifically, strategy seventeen: Tossing out a brick to get a jade.”

“The fu-frick does that mean?”

“Use bait, of course.”

Her explanations did nothing to soothe his temper and he jabbed a very angry finger at her. “Do not do that again!”

“Why not? It works every time.”

“Wha...how many times have you done that!?”

“I dunno, what is it… November?” She tilted her head this way and that, counting. “Probably six or seven by now.”

“You’re gonna end up dead someday!”

“That’s true for everybody, isn’t it?” She couldn’t look directly at him anymore. There was just too much kicked puppy under the snapping and snarling. Kid had obviously had a hard life and she hated to add to it. “Anyway, it’s fine, Mac. My second in command, Preston, would have paid you. You won’t lose any caps if I bite it in the field… I mean, that’s just life, right? Shit happens.”

If he puffed up any bigger he was going to float away. “That’s not what it’s…”

He trailed off and she glanced back at him, keeping her head tilted up so he wouldn’t notice. He seemed confused at his own anger, and angry at his confusion.

Poor baby didn’t even realize what a good guy he was.

Maybe Cait would be a better fit for a man like that. Two diamonds in the rough. Piper might get frustrated by his lack of insight.

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Get yourself killed. Whatever blows your skirt up, lady.” He stalked away, fists still clenched. Tenser than she’d ever seen him.

Cass was pretty sure he wasn’t, but she had to ask. “Are you quitting?”

He kept walking, “I’ll be in the da-dang diner.”

She nodded to herself. “Good.” Test two passed with distinction. He carried out orders beautifully  _ and _ wasn't afraid to speak up when necessary. She had no use for incompetence or sycophants on her payroll.

It was cold, and the metal roof beneath her butt radiated that fact, but she stayed seated anyway. The stars, twinkling in the winter air, kept her transfixed, as they so often did these days. Left alone, she tended to zone out. Her mind going completely, beautifully blank while she stared at the ocean waves or the stars or even just clouds passing by.

It made sense to her, even if no one else seemed to understand. Her friends hated it, didn't want to accept it, but the truth was irrefutable. She was empty now. A black hole where a person used to be. Of course she’d want to absorb and consume the beauty around her. That’s just what collapsed stars did.

She snorted softly to herself. A collapsed star. A year ago, Deacon would have found that hilarious.

Not much made him smile these days.

Her eyes fell on the bodies scattered around her and she wrinkled her nose a little at the smell. Could be worse. Could be summer, when they really stank.

Her Pipboy said two hours had already passed. That should have probably surprised her, but she was used to missing time by now. Happened a lot. Kid was probably worried sick though.

Cass sighed and slid off the roof of the newspaper stand, managing somehow to land on a clear spot on the pavement. It rolled her ankle a little, but she’d take a sprain over using ferals like bean bags any day. She poked her head into the kiosk and grinned at the pile of bones that had once been her friendly morning acquaintance, Kenneth Boyle.

“Sorry for the mess, Kenny, my boy. Couldn’t be helped. The old neighborhood ain’t what it used to be. Oh! No, no, don’t get up. I can manage just fine. You’re so sweet to offer!” She hopped from clean spot to clean spot until she cleared the field of death and gave him one last wave. “See? Fine like wine! Have a nice night, honey! Tell the missus I said hello!”

She couldn’t say for certain when she’d started talking to any skeletal remains she recognized. Maybe around the time she’d had to put down most of her feral pre-war neighbors like some kind of super fucked up block party about a week out of the vault? Maybe even before then, when she’d stumbled upon the remains of her beloved Brutus, the sweet little bichon frise Ben had given her two Christmases before the big boom happened.

Codsworth had told her he’d come home about ten minutes after the bombs fell. He would not say what condition he was in when he arrived. She thought it was very thoughtful of him to wrap the body in a blanket and store it in the dryer for her to bury when she finally came home. Not even Deacon knew she carried around one of his itsy bitsy ribs in her pack. In the same small bag as Benji’s wedding ring and the holo he’d never been able to give her. That was her secret and hers alone.

The man just didn’t understand love, was the thing. She wasn’t ashamed of the keepsakes. He just wouldn’t get it and she had no interest in explaining anything to anyone lately.

Well… except the new kid, of course. Someone had to educate him. Might as well be her.

There was movement in a building to her left. She knew who it was without even having to stop and think about it. Too smooth and careful for a feral. He’d deliberately made sure she’d seen him.

As if she hadn’t already noticed him when he’d shot that reaver who’d grabbed her leg.

He always was the jealous type.

Duty and need warred within her for a moment, and she ultimately succumbed. She wouldn’t have, back before, but she was a different person nowadays.

He’d set up a fire inside. Sleeping bag. Stirring something in a pot. Beans, maybe. Looked like any other wasteland wanderer at their camp.

Sneaking by blending in. His favorite. “Strategy one: Deceive the sky to cross the ocean.”

“Ah, you got me.” He didn’t acknowledge her presence beyond a hand wave towards the sleeping bag. “Hungry?”

“No, I already ate.”

“Okay.”

Cass sat and watched his profile. Something was up. He usually didn’t seek her out again so soon after a Goodneighbor party. Asking wouldn’t get her anything though. It never had with him.

“Mac’s working out pretty well.”

“Hmm.”

Ah. That tone. So it really was jealousy. Again. “He’s passed two out of the three tests so far.”

“That’s… actually surprising given his reputation for being insubordinate. He must really like you.”

“What’s not to like?” Their banter was flat. Had been flat for ages. They used to bounce jokes between them so fast they could barely get them out for all the laughter. Now they were stilted and predictable, like a sitcom three seasons past its prime.

“Is he going to be a player, too?”

She rolled her eyes, “You sound like Hancock. He asked the same thing.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“He’s a fetus, Deacon. I have no interest in little boys.”

“A fetus with a fetus.”

“What?”

“Mac’s got a kid back home.”

“Jesus.” Cass clicked her tongue, “Babies makin’ babies. That’s terrible. You know how old?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. Little. Still squishy. Walking.”

“A toddler, then.”

“Maybe.”

“Huh.”

“Had a wife, but she died. Ferals. His kid’s sick. Probably came up here to try to find help.” He glanced at her and was pleasantly surprised at the maternal concern in her eyes. Hadn’t seen anything like that from her in a long time. Maybe Mac would be useful after all. “He’s gonna ask you for help at some point. They always do.”

“Oh, that poor baby.”

Her voice was soft. Tender. Sweet. He let it roll over him but didn’t look at her. If he just focused on the fire, it was almost like they’d turned back the clock. Back to when she’d still been so full of hope and love.

The illusion was shattered when he finally had to glance over. He never could help himself in that regard. The dark smear across her face was proof enough that time had indeed marched on. They were both different people now.

“I’m sorry about your face.”

She shrugged, “Yeah, well… it’s a pain in the ass, but whatcha gonna do?”

A year ago? Find whoever had left that mark on her and put them in the ground. “What’d you tell the mayor?”

“Didn’t see him… but I had to tell Mac I fell down in my apartment. I’m pretty sure he thinks Hancock’s abusing me, so that’s gonna be fun to deal with.”

Deacon chuckled, “Protective puppy powers, activate.”

“Pretty much. I can already tell it's going to be a pain in the ass, and it’s all your fault, so what are you gonna do to make it up to me?”

“How about a trip to sunny Acapulco?”

“Oh, that does sound nice. I’ll have to pick up a new swimsuit.”

They’d started the travel game almost as soon as they met. All the places he’d take her, the adventures they’d have. Exotic destinations. Impossible fantasies. That seductive idea that anywhere was better than here as long as they went there together.

He gave up pretending to cook and crawled across the floor to her, laying his head in her lap. “I really am sorry.”

Cass hesitated, unsure as to what the game was this time, but slid a hand into his curls anyway. The way the fire danced in them, you couldn’t even see the silver that shot through the red. She wondered if she looked younger here, too. Good lighting could change your life, after all. No one even noticed the white that was slowly taking over the blonde for her, but she’d been fighting the beginning stages of crow’s feet even before the bombs dropped. God only knew how bad she looked now. She certainly didn’t. She’d been avoiding looking at herself in mirrors for months.

Is that why he was being so affectionate suddenly? Outside of Goodneighbor, he was never this quiet and gentle. Even there, he could only manage it for maybe an hour before something in him snapped. The way she looked tonight must have somehow reminded him of the girl she’d once been.

Another game of pretend, then. How original.

She sighed, “It’s fine. Don’t be sorry.”

“I wanna make it up to you.”

“Well, you already shot that feral when it caught my foot earlier. I’m pretty sure we’re square.”

Deacon rose and crouched in front of her. Her anxiety spiked into the stratosphere when he took his sunglasses off and carefully set them aside. His eyes were full of pain and despair. They had been since their first time together. She hated that. She hated seeing it and he knew it, which is why, even now, he almost always kept the glasses on.

“Cassie…”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

He flinched as if she’d hit him and dropped his eyes. “Don’t.”

The face thing must really be bothering him. She turned her head so it wasn’t as noticeable and leaned back a little, trying to create space between them physically to match the emotional Grand Canyon their fucked up coping mechanisms had caused.

“What do you want, Deacon?”

“Just you.” He closed the gap and brushed his lips against hers. Hesitant and careful, a perfect copy of when she’d originally kissed him and ruined everything. It felt like he was mocking her.

Oh, sure.  _ Now _ he wanted her. When some bizarre sense of guilt and obligation had kicked in. She was fairly certain he just fucked her out of pity at this point. That stung. Still hurt more than it should.

In the days leading up to her breaching the Institute, she’d almost been certain something was there. His behavior towards her had changed, straddling the line between friends and something more. More lingering touches and the like. She couldn’t even count the number of times she’d caught him staring. Cass had stepped onto that stupid teleporter so full of hope and excitement. Not just for the chance to find her son, but because of what she’d thought might be waiting for her when she got back.

Someone warm and funny and smart. Driven, kind, dangerous. She’d blown him a kiss just before Sturges had flipped the switch and she still swore she’d seen cautious longing on his face.

Then she came back home, and… it was different. He was still the same, but she wasn’t. Which meant they couldn’t be who they’d been. He initially avoided her, kept trying to focus on the mission. Pawned her off on Dez or Carrington or Preston. Whoever was closest.

She’d finally managed to corner him, broken down and told him everything that had happened, poured her heart and soul out to him. Offered up everything she was on a silver platter. He’d initially given in. Finally broke his own ‘no hugging’ rule. Gently wrapped her in his arms. It had felt like finally coming home. Cass had pressed her lips to his and she’d thought…

She’d thought wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

He hadn’t seen her like that. Didn’t need her the way she needed him. Couldn’t love her the way she’d come to love him. Didn’t even want her body until someone else had it first. Like a child with a toy they ignored until some other kid on the playground wanted it.

Now… she didn’t even know how they’d gotten to now. It was like the only language they could really communicate in anymore was pain. He kept seeking her out, chasing after the old her. She kept letting him.

It was madness.

Still. Pretending could be nice sometimes. It was just acting with fewer rules.

Their kiss ended and Cass smiled shyly at him, like that stupid girl would have. “Well, you’ve got me.”

His eyes snapped back to hers, desperately searching for any truth under the performance. Hardening when he realized nothing was there. Just like always. He wrapped a hand around her throat and she relaxed in his hold, already accepting whatever was coming next.

Because she’d deserve it; and he’d deserve it, too.

She was already wet. Already excited and heated. Or maybe that was her body’s only way of preparing for the oncoming storm. In any case, they’d gone down this road a thousand times. Whatever feelings he’d once inspired in her had rotted on the vine. Bitter and wasted. There was no life, no light, inside her anymore. She was the human equivalent of a compost heap and he had no one to blame but himself.

He knew it, too. That’s where the anger grew from. That’s where all the aggression and hurt blossomed. Deacon’s entire life was a series of mistakes, missed chances and brutal fuckings by karma. Cass was just the cherry on the sundae here.

His hand tightened as he pushed her onto her back, moving with her until he was sitting heavily on her belly. Even while he growled at her, she could feel his thumb rubbing her skin gently as though he just couldn’t help himself.

It almost made her laugh.

“Fucking liar. Is that really all you know how to do anymore?”

She didn’t bother answering. He was just talking to himself. Talking to fill the void somehow. Old habits and all that. He usually had his glasses on for this though. She wasn’t used to seeing the longing in his eyes. The broken, futile way he kept searching for any sign of her former self. That was a little too much.

Cass averted her eyes and concentrated on watching the fire instead. It was safer. She relaxed further as her mind started to blank again. The flames danced and whirled and she floated along with the smoke they created.

Deacon watched her drift away from him and it took serious effort to not crush her windpipe right then and there. Put her out of her misery. Eat his gun after. Romeo and Juliet, wasteland style.

She looked beautiful tonight. She always looked beautiful. With her face turned away, he could almost imagine none of the violence from the night before had ever happened. If he slid his hand away from her throat, which he did, and instead cradled the back of her head as he leaned down and pressed gentle kisses down her neck, it almost felt like what it always should have been.

If she could pretend, then by God, he would, too.

The firelight was kind to her. Not that she really needed that kindness. Cass was still as lovely as she was the day she’d left the vault to him. It did smooth out the small lines that had started to gather around her eyes and erased that permanent tension from her forehead. She almost looked alive again, golden and glowing. Close to the girl from all those old holos. That bubbly cutie-pie that had once effortlessly charmed millions with her soft eyes and impish smiles.

He tried to imagine what could have been. She’d been so broken and distraught when she’d returned from the Institute that first time. It was a living, breathing kind of torment. Eating her alive inside and she’d stared up at him like he was the only person in the world who could possibly make it right.

Would she have lain passive under him, as she was now? Or would she have returned his affections with interest? Someone as loving and vivacious as her surely would. That quiet smile he’d grown to love on her face, a heartfelt promise in her eyes.

He’d wanted her for a long time. Forever, it had seemed. Since day one. She was everything he’d missed in his life, and he would have told her. He should have told her. There’d been a million chances, but he’d lied to himself. Convinced himself there was too much going on for that. She’d needed to focus on what lay ahead, not on him. 

He’d always assumed his feelings were unrequited until she’d blown him a kiss. Her feelings had been written all over her face then. Open and honest and unmistakable.

The only time he’d seen her look like that since was just after she’d kissed him. Before he’d pushed her away. Before he’d lost her. The love and trust on her face had overwhelmed him. Terrified him. He’d panicked, didn't even have a chance to think it through. He’d ruined it.

Now he wasn’t sure he’d ever see that look again, but he kept chasing it. Wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead. Couldn’t.

He at least owed her that much.


	3. Change Pages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change Pages: Term for the new, altered pages of a script that are added during production; usually printed on a different color than the original script

Mac had been patient. He really had.

When the boss hadn’t come back in an hour, he told himself she was just out enjoying the stars. Probably giving him some time to cool off so their professional relationship wouldn't suffer. Thoughtful, really. No reason she should run back to entertain him. He was an adult, after all. He could entertain himself.

Three comics and a can of water later and another hour had slid by. Still no Cass.

Maybe she was scavving somewhere. People did. It was a thing. He personally had little use for junk, but the Minutemen had settlements all over and settlements required supplies, so it was completely plausible. Plus, she was pre-war. Maybe she had sentimental attachments to stupid shit like old desk fans and coffee mugs. Who knew?

He sat tight and cleaned his rifle. Again. Then his pistol, even though he hadn’t fired it since the last time he’d cleaned it. Boots were looking a little scruffy so he spiffed them back up to Big Kahuna standards.

No matter how many times he checked his watch, it told him the same thing. It was edging ever closer to the three and a half hour mark and she still wasn’t back. He’d left her less than two hundred yards away. Nobody took that long to go such a short distance.

Irritated and ready to bust some heads, he grabbed his pistol and headed back out. His eyes immediately went to the newspaper stand, but it’s rooftop was empty in the cold moonlight. Just the sound of the wind. No sign of her.

Still, that was her starting point. So he’d start there, too.

Mac crossed the square on silent feet and stood quietly by the building for a minute. Trying to get in her head and figure out where she’d have wandered off to. Most people broke to the right first, so he moved towards the partially destroyed apartment buildings that lined the right side of the square. The windows were all dark, broken or not.

He pitched his voice as soft as he could while keeping enough force behind it to carry. “Cass? You in there?”

Nothing and nobody answered back, so he moved on. There was some old store ahead. Those creepy ass mannequins staring at him while he peered into the darkness. He opened his mouth to call for her again but there was a quiet shuffling sound from the back.

He was pretty sure. It might have been his own foot. His hand was on his pistol, just in case, when he whistled. There was a sudden scuttling and then a crash as whatever was in the store flailed around.

Mac was still on the fence about whether it was human or not when he heard Cass start laughing and finally took his hand off his gun.

“Boss? That’s you, right?”

“Mac! Do you shop here, too? Isn’t that fun! What a small world.”

He shook his head and ignored her playful teasing. Her voice was hoarse and rough. Almost didn’t sound like her at all. Maybe she’d been sick after all that death and decay.

“You alright?” The shop’s door was still barricaded. He carefully climbed through the broken plate glass window, doing his best to avoid the glass shards.

“Oh, sure! Sure, I’m great. Thanks for asking.”

“Little late for shopping, isn’t it?”

“Shows what you know, smartypants. Midnight madness sales, ever heard of them?”

“No.”

“Huh. Well, now you have.” She crossed through the shadows in the back, never in enough light for him to get a good look at her. “I’m going into the dressing room now, so don’t follow me, you naughty little perv.”

Mac huffed and leaned against the store counter, folding his arms and taking up a kind of casual guardpost. “Nobody wants to follow you. Sheesh.”

“What was that?” Her voice carried well despite sounding so raspy.

“Nothing. Hurry up, alright? This place has bad sight lines.”

She laughed at that, “Why, pumpkin, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me.”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?”

“True.” Cass finally emerged, a simple dress on under her jacket, the same scarf and boots as before. “Well? What do you think?” She twirled and he frowned at the unsteady way she did it.

She was moving like she was hurt and trying to ignore it. Or hide it.

“What happened to your other clothes?”

“Just felt like a change… so? Do you like it or not?”

Her smile was silly and sweet, but there was a bleakness in her eyes he hadn’t seen earlier.

“Yeah, it’s nice. What color is it?”

“Oh. Hmm… it’s kinda monochrome in here, isn’t it? Hang on.”

She turned on her Pipboy’s light and the entire room lit up in a sickly green. While she frowned down at the dress and tried to figure out the color, Mac’s eyes traveled past her, to the pile of clothes still on the floor of the dressing room.

“Here, I got it.” He pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, a beam of white light illuminating her skirt. “Green.”

“So it is!” She switched off her own light and swayed a little, staring down at the way it swished around her knees. “Well, it’s not exactly Jacques Fath but… good enough for free, I guess.”

“Sure.” There was a mere five inches of bare skin between the dress and her combat boots, but what was there was covered in the same sharp ligature marks he’d seen on her wrists. Smears of purple and blue over it like someone’s hands had forcibly held her legs apart.

She bounced past him, still flashing that bright smile. “Alright, well, it’s getting pretty late. I think it’s time for good little girls and boys to be in bed, don’t you?”

“Sure. You know any?”

“Ha! I knew I liked you, Mac. That was almost funny.”

“I’m gonna take a leak before I head back.”

“Oh.” Her head tilted, “Number one or two?”

He frowned, “What does it matter?”

“I’m still trying to figure out just how gentlemanly you really are.”

He gave her a flat look. “I will see you in ten minutes, boss.”

“Wow...ten whole minutes, huh? Don’t forget your reading material.”

“Oh, ha ha. Now who’s _almost_ funny?”

“Oooh, them’s fightin’ words, kiddo. You better watch it. I’m not above doling out spankings.”

Mac snorted and watched her go. He waited until he could no longer hear her humming before moving into the dressing room.

Her pants and shirt from earlier were there, discarded in a corner. He used his foot to spread them out a little and blanched white before the anger hit and his hands started to shake.

The shirt was destroyed. Buttons torn away and tears along the seams. It looked like someone had tried to violently rip it off her body. The pants were worse. So much worse. Slit down the back and bloodied. A smooth line bisecting the rough fabric before impatient hands had torn it away. Combat knife. More raider shit. He’d seen crap just like this when he’d worked with the Gunners.

Someone had hurt her. Had gotten to her when he was sitting on his ass in the relative safety of their camp. Probably yanked her right off that stupid roof and spent God only knew how long torturing her before she managed to get away.

Had she killed whoever had done it? Or maybe they’d left her incapacitated while they slunk away? Bastards.

He moved back onto the sales floor and paced. If he went back there now, this amped up, he’d probably scare her, right? Women needed calm heads and kid gloves after something like this, didn’t they? He hadn’t had very much experience with victims of violence of this nature, but his wife had. Lucy had seen terrible things in her time working at the clinic in Rivet City. She never wanted to talk about it when she came home but she’d only lasted there a few months before the emotional toll was just too much. They’d turned nomadic shortly after with her as a traveling medic.

Cass would be sore. Might even need Med-X. Given the amount of blood he’d seen, she’d definitely need a Stimpak. She didn’t seem the type to want help for something like this though, so he kept up his pacing.

She’d want privacy. Boundaries and minimal fuss. He’d said ten minutes, so he’d give her ten minutes.

By the time he burst back into the diner, she was already tucked into a sleeping bag. It was chilly inside, but not overly so. He’d wanted to build a fire for her, but there was no way for smoke to escape.

She’d be cold. He knew she would be. Lucy had told him once that a lot of women who’d been brutalized would often feel chilled even if it was a hundred degrees out. Some kind of shock would take over and they’d end up shivering until their teeth rattled.

The only other idea he had for heat involved getting into the sleeping bag with her, though, and he was sure she didn’t need that right now.

“Mac, shut the door, honey. You’re letting out all the bought air.”

“What? Oh. Yeah, right.” He quickly shut the door behind him and leaned against it. What should he do here? Offer to stay outside? Offer to stay close? If he moved near her, would she spook?

Cass rolled enough to look at him and seemed confused, “What’s wrong?”

“I uh… are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay. I put an extra sweater on.”

“Oh. Right. Smart.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve got some whiskey if you --”

She made a face, “Ugh. No, thank you. I’m more a vodka kinda girl myself, but you go right on ahead if you want.”

“No, I’m -- I’m good. Um… should I set up outside, or…”

He seemed to amuse her, “Mac?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“You did good today, sweetheart. Real good. I’m proud of you. You can relax. Go ahead and sleep. My friends down the way will start their patrols again tonight so there’s no need to worry.”

Great. Where the hell were they when she was getting attacked, huh? “Oh. Okay.”

The sleepy smile she gave him was sweet enough that it reminded him of Lucy for a second. “Okay, pumpkin. Good night.”

“Good night, boss.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They spent the next two weeks slowly making their way around the Commonwealth, taking out any Gunner group they came across. Cass had a map on her Pipboy of all their known locations, which Mac helped flesh out a bit, and with the added might of the Minutemen’s artillery behind them, they were able to wipe most out with ease.

Vault 95 though, they’d had to do the hard way.

Cass walked ahead of him in the twilight, groaning the whole way and whining. “Ugh, I can't believe they actually tried squatting in there  _ again _ after I'd already cleared them out last year. _Everything hurts.”_

Mac smiled to himself. He’d learned she had a flair for the dramatic. Their firefight with the entrenched assholes who’d tried occupying this particular vault hadn’t been  _ that _ tough. Besides, if she was well enough to bitch about something, she was well enough to keep walking. It's when she got quiet that you had to worry.

“Sorry, boss.”

She turned back to him, pouting cartoonishly. “Carry me.”

“Nope.”

Another whine, “But Maaaac…”

“Hundred caps.”

It almost looked like she was about to start with the crocodile tears, that totally did  _ not _ work on him at all, thanks for asking, but instead she just grinned.

“Deal.”

“Wait, what?” He watched her skip behind him and stood in disbelief as she removed his gear. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll pay you when we get there.”

She hopped up and her weight hit him all at once. Not that she weighed a lot, or anything, but she was at least twice as heavy as his pack had been. Mac stumbled forward a few steps and gasped for air as her arms wound around his neck and choked him.

“Boss! Boss, stop!  _ Air!” _

“Oh! Sorry.” She moved her hands to his shoulders and he felt her thighs tighten up around his hips. “Better?”

He took three large breaths before answering, “Better. Now get off.”

“One fifty.”

Goddammit. That was a lot of caps for a little work. Shit. “Fine.” He looped his arms under her knees and took all of two steps before she stopped him.

“Mac?”

“Yeah?”

“Your stuff, honey.”

He sighed. “Right.”

It took a lot of luck and maneuvering, but somehow he managed to kneel down enough to retrieve everything from the dirt. There was nothing to do but drag it all along with them, so he did. Sullenly. Completely ignoring how warm she felt on his back and how nice she still somehow smelled for two weeks on the road.

She whispered right in his ear and he couldn’t help but shivering. “You are  _ such _ a good sport. I ever tell you that?”

“Yeah.” Only all the time. It was like she’d been purposefully needling him since they’d left Cambridge. He had no idea why. 

“Well, you are. We’re headed to Somerville next. We can camp there for the night. Onward, steed!”

Of course they were. “At least it’s downhill the whole way.”

“Aw, that’s what I love about you, sweetheart. Always looking on the bright side of things!”

She was probably the only person in existence to ever believe that, but he didn’t bother correcting her. Most people thought he was an asshole or a smartass… or a smart asshole. Cass though, she actually treated him like she liked him. Like she thought he was a great guy.

Just like Lucy had.

Actually, they had a lot in common. You wouldn’t think it to look at them, but it was true. Sure, they didn’t resemble each other or anything, but there was something gentle and warm about them both. They both got his jokes and laughed freely, even in the wastes. Both were smart as fuck, understanding shit that was way beyond him.

His wife had known all sorts of cool medical stuff and science. She could tell you all the bones in the body, properties of wasteland plants, how to distill a bunch of junk into actual medicine. Cass knew everything about the old world and had started rebuilding a lot of it. She knew how telephones had worked, and how TVs had once received signals. She knew cool stuff about space and places he’d never even heard of, too.

They both liked to hum, both almost never stopped talking. On anyone else, he’d always found those traits annoying, but Lucy and Cass were exceptions. There was just something there that made him want to listen forever.

She patted him on the head suddenly, “Whoa, pony.”

Of course, there were other times, like right now, for example, when he wondered why he put up with her at all.

He stopped and turned to look at her as best he could.  “What?”

“Shh… do you hear that?”

Mac frowned and looked around them. Her settlement was within sight. There was a busted sentry bot to their left a ways, but it had been out of commission for quite some time now. As far as he could tell it was just them and the weeds.

“No. What do you --”

The ground suddenly exploded all around, a massive radscorpion rising to the surface just behind them. It must have been stalking them this whole time. His first instinct was to tighten his grip on her and try to make a run for it, but Cass apparently had other ideas.

She used him like a springboard and launched herself at the monster, a knife from God only knew where in her hand.

He watched in horror as she landed on it’s back and immediately wedged her blade between the thick armored plates near the base of its tail. It snapped and whirled around, trying to dislodge her, stinger flailing wildly and coming dangerously close to hitting her right in the neck.

“Boss!”

_ “Shoot it!” _

Fuck. Right. Her pistol was no match for its exoskeleton, but his .308 was. He backed away from the pair and brought his rifle up. There was no need for a scope this close, but he still had to carefully time his shots to avoid hitting Cass.

“What are you waiting for!? Shoot it, Mac!”

“I know! I know!”

First round went through the pincer that kept snapping a little too close to her calf. Second went through its legs to slow it down. He finally managed to get a clean headshot and hit it right in the middle of it’s weird cluster of eyes. It eventually stopped thrashing and Cass took a minute to catch her breath before she sat up and looked back at him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Damn fine shooting, kiddo!  _ Damn _ fine!”

“Thanks.” It would have been a lot more impressive if he’d noticed it before it attacked them. Like he was supposed to.

“I mean it! You are a wonder!”

His cheeks grew warm. He had no idea what to do with praise he hadn’t earned. “You’re quite the cowgirl.”

“Ha, yeah, that’s me. A regular Slew-Foot Sue.”

“I  _ hate _ bugs.”

“It’s an arachnid, darling, but I agree. They’re disgusting. Even back when they were the size of your hand they were disgusting.” Her knife appeared to be caught and she stuck her tongue out a little as she wiggled it free. “Damn thing’s... ah! There we go!”

“Gonna want to clean that off soon, boss.” He made a face at the slime coating it and slung his rifle back over his shoulder.

It came so fast he wasn’t even sure what was happening until it was too late. The second she stood, the creature twitched, hard. It’s stinger whipped forward, some kind of reflexive nerve response, and caught her right in the chest.

The smile on her face instantly died and she blinked before staring down at it.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Cass!” He grabbed her shoulders and kicked the tail away, a trail of poison oozing from its bulb onto the dead grass.

“It’s okay. Don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking! Shut up!” They needed someplace safe and secure. Somerville was still too far away, but the destroyed sentry bot’s original home, some kind of small bunker, was close by. He threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her protestations, and ran up the hill.

Once there, he carefully set her inside and then shut the rusted door as much as he could behind them. It wasn’t ideal but it would probably be good enough for now.

Cass seemed more fussed over the fact that her shirt was now wet and bloody than the fact that poison was coursing through her veins, on its way to stopping her heart. Mac dropped to his knees in front of her and started to work on her buttons.

“Hey!” She tried batting his hands away but with how hers were shaking, didn’t accomplish much. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to save your life.” When she kept getting in the way, he finally snapped at her. “This is no time for modesty, boss. I already know what girls look like!”

She sniffed at him, “Well, you don’t know what  _ my _ girls look like!”

He finally got her shirt undone, whipped it off her shoulders so it kept her arms immobilized and openly stared at her chest for a moment before he glared back at her. “There. Now I do. So can you just let me do this already?”

Color flooded into her cheeks and she pointedly turned her face away from him. “You could at least buy a girl dinner first.  _ Jeez.” _

“You are an idiot.” He got her being embarrassed in this situation. Most ladies probably would be, but this was about survival. Anyway, it's not like he saw much. Her bra was still there. He knew about pre-war bikinis and bathing suits and the like. It’s not like she was suddenly indecent.

Cass could not believe the hard left turn this afternoon had taken. She’d been in a perfectly dandy mood and now this. Mac was manhandling her further, pulling her into his arms and holding her like she was some kind of baby.

It made her extremely disgruntled. She wasn’t a baby.  _ He _ was the baby. Unbelievable.

His hot mouth suddenly on her skin made her whole body jerk. If her arms had been free, she’d have slapped him.

_ “What are you doing?!” _ It came out more a breathless shriek than the authoritative disapproval she’d been going for. Zero gravitas whatsoever. Somehow that just made her more infuriated.

He didn’t bother to answer, just sucked hard at the pinprick wound marring the swell of her breast. When he finally rose, he gave her the sassiest, scoldiest look she’d received in ages. As if he had a right. She scowled back at him and he turned his head, spit out a mouthful of blood and poison, and began again.

Oh. Well…okay. That was probably alright. Rather unnecessary but alright.

“Mac.”

Another exacerbated glare. Another mouthful.

“Mac, stop.”

He spit and shook his head at her. “You got a death wish or something?”

“Or something.”

“We gotta get most of the poison out before using a stim, or it won’t be pretty.”

Yes, thank you. She was perfectly aware of that. She’d only been traipsing about the Commonwealth for more than a year now.

He lowered his head again and she went silent, letting him work in peace. Nothing she said was going to get through to him anyway. It’s not like men ever listened when they were freaking out, and Mac was clearly freaking out.  When he spit another mouthful out, she glanced down at the wound. The skin around it was nearly purple from the pull of his mouth already. How the hell was she supposed to explain that if Deacon showed up?

It wasn’t helping matters that she was noticing all the wrong things here. She should be appreciating his quick thinking and survival skills. That’s what was really impressive. Not how strong he actually was or how surprisingly soft his lips were or how warm she felt in his arms.

He was a  _ baby, _ after all, and she was not interested. Not at all.

This needed to stop.

“Mac, honey.”

He dipped down again and she knew she wasn’t just imagining the subtle, completely unnecessary slide of his lips against her skin before he latched on. Goosebumps ran down her legs. His head tilted a little as he sucked, those bright blue eyes glaring up at her, almost daring her to cause more trouble for him.

The heated look he was throwing her way wasn’t doing a lot to help her behave here. It could almost be mistaken for a little more than professional aggravation. That would probably end up being more trouble than it was worth.

“I have antivenom in my pack.”

A little line appeared between his eyebrows and he lifted his mouth from her. He looked ridiculously cute, suddenly all bewilderment and disbelief. There was a tiny trail of her blood dripping down his chin and ah,  _ fuck. _ Why was that turning her on, exactly?

Maybe she was spending a little too much time with Deacon.

“What?”

“Antivenom. I always carry it. Left side pocket.”

“Oh... _ oh! _ Oh sh-shoot! I’m…  _ shoot!” _ He pulled her back upright and dug through her stuff, muttering to himself.

Cass couldn’t catch most of it. A lot of self-flagellation and worries about the state of his employment and her estimation of him as a man for some reason. It made her laugh a little, even as the pain and dizziness was climbing ever higher.

“Might wanna hurry up a little. I’m starting to get lightheaded.”

“Right! Right, sorry!” He finally pulled out a little clay bottle and held it up. “This it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. How do uh…”

“I need to drink it.” She shrugged her shirt and jacket back over her shoulders and held out a hand. “Give it here.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.” He shoved it into her hand and then uncorked it when he noticed how shaky she was. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve listened.”

She downed the bottle and grimaced at the bitter taste. It felt icy in her stomach and she knew that ice would quickly spread through her system. It wasn’t so bad in the summertime, but now, when the wind cut through you like a knife, it was going to suck.

At least she’d fall asleep by a fire tonight. That was a happy thought.

“It’s okay. You did what you thought was best. You encountered an emergency, took charge and handled it. You did good.”

Mac shook his head, “Made an a-jerk outta myself is what I did. Can you use a stim yet?”

“You aren’t a jerk, and yes, I can.”

“‘Kay.” He gently pressed the needle into her neck and administered the chem.

Her head cleared instantly and she immediately felt better. Mac was staring down at the floor, obviously still beating himself up inside. She hated seeing that defeated look on his face. Made her heart hurt.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, kiddo. Men have done a hell of a lot more than that to get a glimpse at my goodies before.”

His head snapped up and for a second, before he caught on to her teasing, he looked petrified. It just made her giggle harder.

Then that usual old sullen pout was back on his face and he rolled his eyes. “Nobody wants a glimpse at anything you’ve got, boss.”

“Oh, speaking for all men across space and time now, are we? I know quite a few gentlemen who would beg to differ, sweetness. Got the restraining orders to prove it.” She stretched and smirked at the way he had to make himself look away so his eyes wouldn’t automatically land on her bosom like they so often did. “Alright, well… you’re still carrying me the rest of the way.”

“Right. Of course.”

“How’s your mouth?”

Mac made a face, “Not gonna lie. My tongue is a little tingly and numb right now.”

“Oh, boo, and I had plans for that tongue later tonight.” Mac went bright as a tato and she snorted, “Kidding.”

He coughed awkwardly, stood and politely waited until she’d buttoned her shirt before offering her a hand. “That was uh… that was pretty crazy, huh?”

She let him pull her up and shrugged, “I guess. Just another Tuesday in the Commonwealth, right?”

“Heh. Yeah.” He seemed enormously relieved that she was willing to just brush off the entire incident and actually crouched down a little so she’d have an easier time climbing onto his back. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

Finally passed test three. Able to demonstrate leadership skills while maintaining professional, platonic relations even in untenable, unusual situations. Fantastic.

Curie would probably think he was cute. Certainly the boy was a  _ specimen. _ He was probably a little too feisty for Preston.

A reward was in order. He’d definitely earned a gold star by this point. She’d have to come up with something.

Somerville Place was a decent sized settlement at the ass end of the Commonwealth. Close enough to the Glowing Sea to make Mac nervous, and surrounded by marshes and outright swamps. It was actually a pretty dangerous area, but the Minutemen had built thick concrete walls around it that kept most of the wasteland riffraff out. Almost looked like a castle or something.

“You guys should rename this place Fort Somerville.”

“Hmm, now there’s an idea.”

He smiled to himself. She almost always thought his ideas were good ideas. That was pretty nice after so long hearing what a useless idiot he was.

Actually, Cass was just nice all the way around. She was always fretting over him, always making sure he had plenty to eat and got enough sleep. She was affectionate, too. Shockingly so for a general, in his opinion. Lots of little touches and pats and even the occasional hug.

Honestly, it was kinda starting to mess with his head. Remembering that she was his boss and boss only had become increasingly difficult with each passing day. It was a hell of a lot worse now that he knew for sure that her figure was as gorgeous as he’d always assumed. That image was going to stick with him a long ass time, medical emergency or not.

He kept telling himself it didn’t mean anything. Of course it didn’t. Her silly, easy flirtations were completely innocent. Had to be. No matter how competent he proved himself in the field, she still referred to him as a kid or whatever. He might look at her and see a woman, but she clearly looked at him and just saw a boy. 

Mac had no idea how to change that. Or even if he should try to change that. It could very well be that’s why she was so comfortable with him. He never had managed to get her to admit to being assaulted after they’d taken out that feral infestation. Never got her to talk about Hancock. Maybe she just needed someone tough around she could still pretend was a harmless baby in her head and feel safe with? He had no fucking clue.

Anyway, it probably had more to do with the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid since Goodneighbor than anything else. He’d only been able to jack it maybe twice since they started traveling together. It just seemed disrespectful around her and she almost never let him be alone for longer than five minutes. Made it real easy to get lost in the feel of her curves pressed up against him and how nice it felt to have her legs wrapped around his waist.

Cass waved suddenly and almost knocked him off balance again. “Ahoy, Somerville!”

A guard posted at the gate answered, “Ahoy, General! Are you injured?”

“Nah! You know me!” She hopped off Mac’s back, giving him a pat on the shoulder and her trademark wink as she went on ahead. “Just lazy!”

The guard chuckled and shouted down for the gates to open. People began calling out to her as soon as she entered and the Minutemen actually had looks of respect and friendly nods and waves for him as he followed.

He still wasn’t sure what to do with that, either. Traveling with Cass meant people assumed he was a good person. They trusted him. Sometimes, kids at her settlements would even follow him around like he was some kinda hero.

It was weird. He was living as honestly as he ever had. No stealing, no sneaking into places he wasn’t supposed to, no chems even. But he somehow felt dirtier than usual that nobody ever seemed to catch on that he wasn’t actually a good guy. He was just a killer for hire with a good boss.

Cass was busy chatting up Sam, the settlement’s mayor, when her attention drifted, as it so often did these days, back to MacCready. He was walking slower than usual now. Almost shuffling. Staring at the ground with that lost, troubled expression he seemed to naturally slip into whenever people weren’t watching.

That wouldn’t do.

She wished he would just tell her about his kid already. She was excited to help him with it, but it’s not like she could just say ‘Hey, one of my boyfriends is a spy and he told me all about you’. People  _ hated _ when you told them that. She’d found that out the hard way with Cait.

She knew it was bad when she managed to get right next to him without him even noticing.

“Mac?”

His startled a bit and his head jerked up, “Yeah, boss?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m… yeah. Why?”

“You just seem a little tense is all.”

“Oh. Oh, well…” He smirked and she was suddenly reminded of a young Montogmery Clift. “It’s uh… been a while since I've had a chance to… I mean…” He seemed to remember who he was talking to and coughed, “It’s a guy… thing. Don’t worry about it.”

Ah. Of course. They had been pretty much spending every waking second together. It’s not like the boy had any time for privacy. Hmm. “Mac, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How old are you, exactly?”

“Oh, uh, twenty-two. Why?”

“Just curious.” Goodness gracious. At twenty-two most men were aroused when the wind blew a certain way. She should really try to do a better job making sure he had alone time.

“Oh.”

“I’ll be staying in the main house tonight. I usually like to check in on Dottie and Jim whenever I’m here.”

“Dottie and Jim?”

“Sam’s kids. They’re absolute angels and they just lost their mother last spring. I try to give them extra attention whenever I'm around.”

Goddamn she was a sweetheart. “Oh. Okay.”

“There’s a cabin up the hill. It’s where my traveling companions usually stay when we’re here. There’s a fireplace, even. So just think of tonight as a little vacation. Take it easy. Rest that tongue of yours. Eh?” She grinned and nudged him a few times with her elbow.

He refused to acknowledge the bait. “Okay, so… I don’t need to take a watch?”

“Nope, the Minutemen have it covered. I’m officially giving you the night off.” She pressed a quick peck to his cheek and smiled. “Have fun!”

He could feel the blood rush into his face and then head south. “Yeah, thanks.”

“M’hmm.” Cass waved goodbye and then headed for the small farmhouse at the community’s center. “Where are my monkeys at?”

Happy squeals from inside and then the door slammed open and two kids launched themselves at her. Already talking a mile a minute and jostling with each other for hugs.

Mac couldn’t help but smile at the sight and trudged on up the hill. He still didn’t know for sure what had ultimately happened to her own kid. The newspaper hadn’t mentioned if she’d ever found him or not. He was guessing not, but with or without her son, she was still a mother through and through. Every toy they came across went in her pack. Every sweet treat a vendor had, she bought and carefully squirreled away for the next time they came into a settlement. She had endless books and stuffed animals and even clothing for any little rugrats they came across.

That reminded him of Lucy, too.

The cabin, as she so optimistically called it, was really more a shack. One room, two beds, a fireplace made from a pair of steel drums. The roof was solid and it had a lock on the door though. He’d definitely stayed in worse places.

It took no time at all to build a small fire, kick his boots off and get comfortable. The room was soon warm enough that he could peel off a whole layer of clothing. He did that and more, stripping down to just his pants, wanting to optimize his comfort while he had the chance. The mattresses looked decent and he bounced on them both a little before choosing one.

Felt like goddamn nirvana. Fuck, it had been two weeks since he’d slept on anything better than concrete. He let himself relax and groaned a bit as his muscles unwound. Lots of little aches and pains had been hiding in the tension he’d carried.

Good thing he had a surefire cure for that.

He unbuttoned his pants and slipped a hand inside, palming himself and rubbing lightly as the blood rushed from his brain. The memory of Cass’s soft lips against his cheek was still fresh in his mind, so he ran with it. She had a pretty mouth, that was for damn sure. Full and sweet. Killer smile. Impossible to resist pout. The way she’d sometimes nibble at her lower lip when she was really concentrating always got to him.

He closed his eyes and imagined her wrapping those gorgeous lips around his cock as he pulled it out, his hand lazily running along its length before he slowly started to pump. Her mouth would be warm and wet, that silver tongue of hers probably ridiculously gifted at dropping a man to his knees.

His hips flexed and he pumped into his hand, groaning at the torturous feel of pre-cum starting to drip down his shaft. Would she like the taste of him? Or be one of those prissy types that flinched when you finally unloaded down their throats?

_ “Oh!” _

His eyes snapped open and he jerked upright, breathing hard with his hand still on his cock. Cass stood in the doorway, a tray of food in her arms, wide eyes taking it all in. He was completely mortified and it only got worse when she finally grinned at him.

“Door was unlocked… and I  _ did _ knock.”

“Well I didn’t hear you!”

“Obviously.”

When she made no move to leave, he hunched over his lap a little. It’s not that he had anything to be ashamed of, but having the woman you were just fantasizing about staring at you like that, amusement dancing in her eyes, wasn’t exactly a fun time. And unfortunately, his cock hadn’t gotten the message that playtime was over and was still hard as a rock. He couldn’t get it back in his pants if he tried.

“Why are you still standing there?!”

“I brought you dinner.”

“Great. Thanks. That’s… great.” She’d taken off her armor. Still in her preferred jeans and a new flannel shirt. He didn’t know why she always had to leave the top three buttons undone. Most decent people stopped at two.  _ Normal _ people stopped at two. Even in his abject embarrassment, he couldn’t help but notice.

Cass set the tray down on the other bed and then sat next to it. “Just went right to it, huh?”

His cheeks went even redder, if that was possible. “I thought I had the night off!”

“You do.”

“So can you leave already?”

She pouted, “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your boss, Mac.”

“You aren’t my boss right now! I'm off duty!"

“Oh, yeah. That’s true… well, then, that’s not a very nice thing to say to your friend.”

“We’re friends?”

“Of course we are!”

He huffed, “Okay, great, then be a pal and get the hell out.”

She tsked at him, “I feel like you haven’t had many friends, honey.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The smile she gave him was new. Wicked and dangerous. It gave him tunnel vision for some reason.

“It means, friends help friends…” She leaned forward, eyes wandering down to his lap and then back to his face. “You want Mama to help you, honey?”

This was a bad idea. It was, right? Getting involved with your boss was just… and he’d sworn if it happened, he’d be sure to ask for caps up front. But the breathy way she said it, the way the fire turned her eyes and hair to gold...

He found himself nodding without even realizing it.

Cass moved forward and kissed his forehead. “There's my good boy.”

Mac could do nothing but watch as she moved to his bed, settling in behind him with her back against the wall before pulling him against her. Her legs were spread on either side of him and she brought his head down to rest against her shoulder, one arm carefully winding around his chest and rubbing in a soothing sort of way.

He turned his head slightly and had a perfect view down her shirt from the new angle. Her breasts were every bit as gorgeous as he remembered. What parts of them he could see, anyway. Sure, he’d just had his mouth on one maybe an hour ago, but he’d been so swamped with fear that he hadn’t had an opportunity to properly appreciate them. Swelling globes of smooth perfection that moved in a slow, steady rhythm as she breathed. A purple smear where his lips had once been. It was hypnotic.

Her lips were right by his ear and he could feel her smile as she began to talk, a sweet whisper he could barely make out, even this close.

“You’ve been so stressed out, baby love. For weeks now. That’s not good for you.”

He opened his mouth to answer and stuttered as her hand, so nice and cool and far softer than his could ever have been, slipped between his legs. “S-sorry.”

“Oh, no, darling. It’s alright.” The arm around him tightened and he realized she was giving him a hug. "I'm not mad. I've just been worried.”

“You… you really don’t have t-to…  _ ah.” _ Her hand was now easing up and down his cock. Barely any pressure at all, fingertips dancing along. It was maddening.

“Shh, it’s alright. I already know what boys look like.”

He was already panting, but that made him laugh a little. “You dunno what mine looks like though.”

“Hmm.” She leaned over his shoulder a little and stared down at his lap, laughing softly when he twitched in her hand. “Well, now I do.” The softest of kisses was pressed against his neck as she continued to stroke him. “Mama's little prince is a big boy, isn’t he?”   


“M’hmm.” It was already hard to talk. His hands found themselves on her knees and he slid them up a little, flexing when they found the suppleness of her thighs. That soft smile was still on her face when he turned to stare at her. Her eyes met his and there was a surprising amount of doting affection there. It actually gave him butterflies in his stomach.

“Feel good?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Such a good baby.” Her hand was now swirling over the head of his cock on every pass. Absurdly graceful movements that had him struggling to not rut against her. “With such a nice, thick cock. So warm and heavy.”

That did it. Whatever control he’d had left in him broke. He bucked against her hold, unable to stop himself. She didn’t seem to mind, just chuckled in his ear and let him writhe against her.

“C-Cass…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m… please, can I…”

“Are you going to cum for me already?”

“N-no, I just… can I… can I please?” He squeezed her thighs and knew she understood when she gave him an indulgent sort of look.

“Those eyes of yours are trouble, you know that? You wanna touch Mama, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Such nice manners.” Her hand left him and was suddenly in front of his face. “Lick.”

He swallowed nervously but obeyed, swiping his tongue over her palm until she was satisfied. When her hand returned to it’s slow torture, it slipped along his foreskin easily and he actually whined at how good it felt.

“Please?”

She sighed and tightened her grip by a fraction. “Oh, alright, I suppose. But behave yourself. Nothing below the waist.”

Mac immediately twisted, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand before sliding it around her waist to keep her close. He nuzzled the fabric aside and felt his heartbeat pick up further when he finally realized she had already taken her bra off. His mouth latched onto a rosy nipple and he looked up at her soft gasp.

Her arm moved to his shoulders, supporting him like a nursing babe while she kept pumping his cock. There was bright color in her cheeks now and he knew she was far more excited than she was letting on.

She watched the greedy way his mouth suckled at her breast and laughed softly. “Hungry little thing, aren’t you?”

Famished, actually. Mac couldn’t believe what was happening. He slid his tongue around the stiff bud in his mouth and immediately caught the way she shivered, a quiet purr escaping her throat. Her fingers threaded through his hair and he groaned, sucking harder and flicking his tongue the same way he would if she’d only let him near her clit.

Please,  _ please, _ God, let that happen.

Her mouth actually dropped open a little before she laughed again, “Bit of a show off, too.” She paused to fondle and squeeze his balls and he shuddered. “Hmm, see? These are far too full, sweetheart. I hate to pull rank here, but I really have to insist that you take better care of yourself in the future.”

He moved his mouth away from her long enough to ask, “Are… mmm, fuck… are you gonna keep helping me?”

She seemed surprised at the question and tilted her head thoughtfully as she moved back to the base of his cock, squeezing firmly, slowly pulling upward. “Do you really need my help, baby doll?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a half-smile. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please?” When her eyebrow went up a little, he felt a strange twisting in his stomach. A  _ good _ strange. “Yes, please, Mama?”

“Good boy… we’ll see.”

He whimpered and returned to the soothing comfort of her breast. There was something about the mindless sucking that was unwinding the worry and stress he’d carried for months. He was safe here. Cass was here, her gentle arms around him, shielding him from the outside world. Everything was going to be alright.

A tingling line of frisson went through his spine and bloomed in his lower belly. Mac set his teeth into the tender flesh filling his mouth and grunted as he erupted over them both, cum spilling through her fingers and down her wrist as she continued to gently encourage every new gushing wave. He felt like time had slowed around them, like it would go on forever, his entire body quaking as she cooed at him, giggling at the pitiful noises he kept making.

Her hand eventually coaxed the last drop out and left him. Mac was only then able to look up at her with a dazed expression, confused and wide-eyed. She seemed to take pity on him then, and ruffled her fingers through his hair.

“Wh-what was --”

She held up her hand again, “Some naughty boy made a mess, didn’t he?”

His gaze reluctantly left her face to stare at the cum still dripping down her hand. “I’m sorry.”

He put his mouth to work without being asked, licking and sucking the salty fluid from between her fingers, long licks down her wrist. She started to pull away and he caught her arm, bringing her hand back to his mouth and sucking two of her fingers inside, staring at her all the while as he tried to get a read on this strange turn of events now that his head was a little more clear.  Her eyes were sparkling, enough of a blush in her cheeks to hide the freckles he knew were there. Lips parted and inviting.

Mac finally let her hand go, keeping it held in his own, tucked against his chest. “Thank you.” It just seemed like the right thing to say.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He liked the breathless way she said it. He’d really like to hear her say his name like that. His hand left hers (and he absolutely noticed the way her fingers fanned out and twitched against his skin) and moved to the button on her jeans. Eyes staying on hers the entire time. He couldn’t get enough of that dark, almost dangerous, lust swirling there. It just pulled him in.

Cass lightly smacked his hand, “No.”

Mac jumped a little, mild as the admonishment was and moved his hand back to rest on her waist. “Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

His brows knitted in confusion. She clearly wanted to. He could feel the heat rolling off her against his side, see the flush that had spread across her breasts. She’d made him cum like a fucking geyser, he felt like the least he could do was reciprocate.

Why would you say no to a willing partner when you wanted them?

“But --”

“Mac, I said no.” There was an unmistakable warning in her voice that made him want to shrink into nothing.

He lowered his eyes, “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, sweetheart.” Her hand tilted his face back up to hers and she smiled gently. “You aren’t in trouble. This was just supposed to be a treat because you’ve been so good. That’s all.”

A treat? “What if I wanted more? Can I earn more?”

A troubled look crept into her eyes, “I… that’s probably a bad idea, honey.”

Tempted. She was sorely tempted. He could tell.

Mac shifted, raising up until he was more or less sitting upright, leaning over her so she had to look up at him. Trying to take back at least some semblance of control over this situation.

“Can I kiss you?”

She blinked and the goddess he’d be all too happy to worship disappeared. She was back to being herself again. Warm, sweet, vulnerable. A woman more enticing than intimidating. Her hands nervously pulled her shirt back together. “That’s probably also a bad idea.”

He smirked and slid his hand into her hair, “That wasn’t a no.”

“Mac…”

His lips were close enough to hers that he could feel her breath spilling across them. He still paused. “Say the word and I’ll stop.” He gave her a solid three seconds to respond and when she didn’t, closed the distance between them.

Kissing her was just as delicious as he’d imagined it would be. She was all softness and warmth, shyly opening her mouth under his so he could slip his tongue inside and taste her properly. A muted, needful noise caught in her throat and he moaned in response.

He felt himself getting hard again. Blood rushing back into his cock like the tide, pulled by her irresistible force. He wanted to hear her make a lot more noises. Wanted to explore her body and make her feel as good as she’d made him feel, as safe and cared for. She deserved it. Deserved a man who knew how to treat her right. Who could love her without hurting her.

He could be --

She turned her head away, a firm hand on his chest. “Stop. That’s enough.”

He didn’t want to stop. He knew she didn’t, either. So he brushed kisses along her cheek, careful and delicate even though her bruises had long started to fade. A soft sweep of his tongue just below her ear.

“Please, Cass?”

“It’s late. You should get some sleep, kiddo.”

Mac almost winced. That fucking word again. She was trying to build distance between them. Putting him back in his place.

He still didn’t want her to go, though.

“Stay then. We can both sleep here. It’s warm and I’ll --”

“No, honey. No. I’m… the children are expecting me.”

He sighed. Now there was an obstacle he knew he couldn’t beat. “Okay.” Mac sat back and watched her get up, her back to him as she buttoned her shirt. It felt awkward suddenly and he finally remembered to worry if he’d still have a job in the morning or not. “Are we --”

“We’ll leave tomorrow around ten. Head to Goodneighbor to get resupplied and then take on Postal Square after that. How’s that sound?”

Fuck. Not Goodneighbor. Anywhere but there. “Why not just stay in Diamond City? It’s closer. You have a place there or something, right?”

“Diamond City doesn’t have KL-E-0. Plus, I need to check in with Doctor Amari.”

The brain doctor? “Are you sick?”

“What?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and seemed surprised by the worry on his face. “Oh… no. No, I just sometimes do jobs for her. Stuff egghead types can’t handle. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh.”

She smiled at him. Friendly and innocent, like the last thirty minutes hadn’t happened at all. “Your food’s probably cold by now, but be sure to eat it for me anyway, alright?”

He’d never felt so confused in his entire life, and he was including the time he got hit with a mesmetron. “Yeah, I will.”

“Okay. Goodnight, sweetie!” She waved at him cheerfully and bounced back out of his room.

Mac watched her go, a hand raised in farewell far too late for her to see. “Night.”


	4. Actions/Intentions

Some terrible creature was screeching the second the sun rose over the marsh. Mac opened bloodshot eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to match the noise with wasteland animals he knew and coming up with nothing. Nobody was screaming though, so it couldn’t be that they were under attack.

To say that he had not slept well was an understatement. Even after he’d convinced his body to calm down, his mind kept going. Racing along, full of hypothetical scenarios and inappropriate thoughts. Cass had said they’d be going to Goodneighbor today, so he probably still had a job for at least that long. Who knew what would happen once the mayor found out what had happened between them though.

The looming threat of Hancock’s reaction upon their return to Goodneighbor was a potent one. The guy was  _ terrifying. _ Was she going to tell him? Was what had happened last night a thing that was allowed? He knew the mayor screwed almost anybody who came along, but maybe he had different rules for Cass. If that were the case, then he was genuinely worried for her safety. He wasn’t letting a good woman get beat to a pulp just for messing around with him. He’d take that pain for her any day.

Then again, he didn’t want to bust in there, all ready to defend her honor and whatever and find out that it wasn’t a big deal or that she'd decided to just not mention it.

He should probably figure out a way to ask before they got there.

Mac reluctantly got out of bed, redressed, grabbed his dirty dishes and made his way down to the main house. The mystery critter turned out to be a radrooster in the backyard squaring off against Sam as he went about his business. It’s three long tail feathers and brilliant red comb making a mockery of the rest of its mutated anatomy. He gave them both a wide berth and politely knocked on the front door. It was early, but this was a farming community. Crazy people probably got up before the sun even did.

A little girl answered the door and stared up at him suspiciously. He noticed there was a small knife in her hand already. Smart kid.

“Who are you?”

“MacCready. I work for the general.”

“Oh.” She turned away from him and yelled, “Mama Cass! It’s for you!”

Cass poked her head out of the sunroom turned kitchen and smiled, “Why, it’s Mac! Right here in our neighborhood! What a nice surprise!”

She always did this. Talked like she had a whole world in her head that no one else was in on. Mac smiled back,  “Hey.”

“Good morning, honey.”

“Morning.”

“Come on in! Have breakfast with us.”

The girl -- Dottie, he finally remembered -- backed up and let him inside. Her brother, Jim, stared at him wide-eyed from the kitchen table, utensils already clenched in his hands.

He gave Mac a decidedly less suspicious look than his big sister had given him. “Your name is Mac?”

“Yeah.” He sat his dishes on the counter, avoided eye contact with Cass, and sat next to the boy. “Something wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t sound like a real name.”

“Jimbo! You hush!”

“Well, it doesn’t!”

Dottie sat on the other side of the table, “It’s short for MacCready, dumb-dumb.”

“I am not dumb!”

_ “Children!” _ Cass gave them a stern look that quickly devolved into puffed out cheeks and crossed eyes while they giggled. “We have company!”

Mac smiled a little at her silliness. “My full name is Robert Joseph, but sometimes people call me Bobby. Sometimes they call me Mac. Sometimes RJ.” He shrugged, “Whatever’s fine. I don’t care.”

Jim thought it over, “You don’t look like any of those names. I guess I’ll just call you Mac though since that’s what Mama Cass calls you.”

“Cool.” He really wished they'd stop calling her that. Every time he heard ‘mama’, his mind raced back to the night before. He was pretty sure the word had been permanently linked to sex for him at this point.

“I’m Jim. I used to go by Jimmy, but that’s a  _ baby’s _ name.”

Kid couldn’t be more than six at the most. “Man’s gotta have a good name.”

“Yeah!”

Cass set three plates heaped with scrambled eggs and fried CRAM. “Here we go. Breakfast of champions.”

The kids dug right in while Mac watched her sit with her cup of coffee. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”

She waved her hand, “Coffee’s fine.”

He frowned at her, “It’s not fine. You were injured yesterday. You need to eat.”

Dottie’s eyes were suddenly huge, “You were  _ injured?!” _

“No.” Cass glared at him, “No, I wasn’t.”

“You said the blood on your shirt came from beating up the bad guys!” Jim’s lower lip was trembling and she reached out, setting a comforting hand on his head.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. I’m fine. Nothing happened, okay? It was just a silly little bug that barely even poked me. Mac here was with me the whole time and kept me safe because that’s his job and he’s very good at it. Okay? You don’t need to worry.”

Jim searched her face for a minute and then switched to staring up at Mac. “Did you kill the bug?”

The angry look Cass was giving him while both kids had their attention off her was scary enough that he’d rather be facing down another radscorpion. “Yeah, I did. It was no big deal.”

“Wow… are you some kinda bodyguard or something?”

“I’m a mercenary.”

Dottie’s eyes got that suspicious look to them again, “Daddy says mercenaries are bad guys.”

Cass shook her head, “Not all of them are. Most, but not all. Mac here is a good one.”

“Oh.”

“Eat your food before it gets cold, sweet pea… and that goes for you two as well.” She smiled at Jim. It only faded a little when she looked Mac’s way. “Growing boys need to eat.”

The kids went right back to shoveling eggs down their throats. Mac took a bite himself and watched her sip her coffee. The awkwardness he'd felt earlier had completely burned off thanks to his irritation.

It was one thing to lie to kids and say you were fine, it was a whole other to ignore your body’s needs.

He speared a piece of CRAM on his fork and held it out to her. “Here. It’s good. You should really try some.”

She was going to wave him off again. Would have if the kids hadn’t paused hoarking down their own food to watch her. She sighed, clearly exasperated, and gave him a head tilt, acknowledging the victory. He wasn’t, however, expecting her to lean over and just eat the bite straight off his fork. It made his attention shift entirely onto her mouth, that little pink tongue of hers swiping her lower lip after she swallowed. His pants were suddenly too tight and a slight tremor developed in his hand.

Mac quickly lowered his fork and cleared his throat a bit, hoping he’d sound totally normal and blasé. “See? Tasty.”

Her nose wrinkled, “It’s always so salty.”

“Y-yeah.” Was she just screwing with him now? He kept his head down and ate a few bites before glancing up at her. The calm, unruffled way she was watching the kids let him know that no, it was all in his head.

He wasn’t sure if he should be happy about that or not.

“You know what? I do think I’ll have some toast. I’m a little hungry this morning.” She got up and went back into the kitchenette.

Jim leaned over and whispered, “Mama Cass  _ never _ eats breakfast. How’d you do that? You know, for next time?”

She ended up not just having toast, but eggs to boot. Mac wasn’t sure why, but he felt ridiculously proud of himself, even if he was being punished for his efforts by her barely acknowledging his existence for the time being. Once the kids finished, they bounced out the door to cause trouble for somebody else and that awkwardness from before came rushing in as they left.

Cass poured him a second cup of coffee before starting on the dishes. He watched her as she worked and tried to figure out what to do or say to get them back to normal. Or, even better, get them to somewhere better than that, where things like last night would just be commonplace.

She’d called it a treat, right? Cause he’d been  _ so _ good.

Okay. He could be a good boy.

Probably.

He just needed a way to get her wanting to talk to him again. Something to get past the wall she’d built during the night. Inspiration finally struck and Mac allowed himself a fleeting smirk before he began.

“It’s a cute place.”

“M’hmm.”

“Wish I’d grown up some place this nice.”

She paused and glanced back at him, eyes already a little softer. “Where’d you grow up?”

He returned her look with the same puppy dog eyes that once helped convince the best girl in the world to marry him. “Oh… well, I was born underground in a place called Little Lamplight. Lived there with a bunch of other kids. Left when I was around sixteen.”

“Little Lamplight?”

A look away, like he was just a bit ashamed. “Yeah, it was this cave. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but…”

“A  _ cave?” _ She sounded horrified. “You  _ grew up _ in a  _ cave?” _

He sighed, “Yeah.”

“And it was just kids?”

“Yup.”

“No adults? At all?”   


“No, we kinda had this policy. You had to leave when you turned sixteen.” He shrugged, “I know it sounds crazy, but having adults around was something we couldn't trust. I was even mayor there for a while, if you can believe it. Got elected when I was nine, took up my rifle at ten, held the office until I lit outta there at sixteen.”

“At nine you were… my stars.”

“Dottie and Jim are lucky. I’d have  _ killed _ for sunshine and fresh air as a kid.”

“Oh, honey.” Tears were swimming in her eyes now.

Ah, fuck. Too far. He hadn’t meant to make her cry, just get her interested. “It’s fine, boss. You don’t have to get upset. I mean… I turned out alright, right?”

For some reason that just made the look on her face worse, “Oh, of course you did, pumpkin! You really,  _ really _ did. I’m so sorry you had to grow up like that.”

“Yeah, well… could’ve been worse. I could’ve been born into the Brotherhood or something.” He smiled at her, relieved when she smiled back. “Guess we probably had pretty different experiences growing up, huh?”

Cass laughed a little and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, “You could say that.”

“What was your childhood like?” There had to be some reason she was so invested in every kid everywhere.

“Oh, it was… well. Hmm.” Dishes finally done, she wiped her hands off on her apron and sat back down with another cup of coffee. Right next to him even though there were three empty chairs to choose from.

He was absolutely taking this as a win.

“Like I told you, I was born in New York. People used to call it the city of dreams. There were a lot of artists and actors, movers and shakers. It was a great place to live. My dad worked in an office downtown. It was in a skyscraper that was fifty-nine stories high with this giant garden in the middle of it. It had actual trees  _ inside the building. _ The whole city was just… magical. Anyway, one day, my mom and I were out shopping and a man came up and told her I had ‘the look’.” She used her fingers to make quotation marks around the words. “He was a talent scout for a modeling agency. So, at five, I went to work. My childhood was effectively over.”

“At five?”

“Yeah.”

“Jeez.” Even in Lamplight, most kids didn’t have to start real work until they were around ten or so.

“I did advertisements mostly. You know, clothing and toys and whatever. There was this one really popular series I did with Santa where I was an elf.” She smiled to herself. “I liked those. They worked really hard on set to make sure I never realized he wasn’t actually the real Santa. I always thought that was nice of them. That led to me doing a television commercial. Selling some car or something. Then some executives out in Hollywood noticed me. Next thing I knew, we were relocating out to Los Angeles.”

“That’s in California, right?”

“Right. Whole other side of the continent. I wasn’t very happy about it at first. I’d loved New York. But, my parents got me a puppy and we eventually settled down in a house with a swimming pool, so I guess I got over it. My first few parts were just background stuff. I was a glorified extra. There’s a cowboy movie somewhere out there with me clinging to the skirts of the brave schoolmarm heroine. Another where I’m skating by at a birthday party for a princess. That kinda thing. Then I got my first big role. I had to play this spoiled brat who tormented the plucky underdog.” Her nose wrinkled, “I hated it. I kept apologizing between takes to my co-star but… well, I mean, you make somebody cry a few dozen times, even if it’s just pretend, they don’t exactly want to be your buddy, right?”

“That went on for a few years. I was blonde and pretty so I was usually the mean girl. My agent eventually managed to convince the studio to give me a softer part, though, and that was the big turning point. I was barely twelve. It was this movie called _‘The Pony in Pink’._ Classic horse girl story. You know, sad little girl with no friends finds a horse that nobody wants and nobody can tame and they save each other.” She rolled her eyes. “It was ridiculous. I mean, I really enjoyed my time with Nugget, but it was just… dumb. Derivative.”

“Nugget?”

“That was the horse. He had a gold and white coat. Big splotches like somebody had thrown a bucket of paint over him. Absolutely gorgeous creature. I think his full name was something something Gold Nugget or Lucky Nugget or… I dunno. Anyway, he was probably my favorite co-star  _ ever, _ to be honest. Very professional, you know.”

Mac chuckled, “So you were an actress?”

“Yup. Right up until I got married. My eternal sweetheart shtick was harder to pull off when people suddenly knew for sure I was no longer a virgin. So I quit the biz, went to college and became a lawyer instead.”

“Huh.”

“Yup.”

It came to him suddenly and he snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know you from!”

“What?”

_ “‘Beach Bunny Bongos’!” _

She groaned, “Oh, no. Not the Beach Bunny series.”

“I saw you! You uh… lesse, your name was… uh…”

“Corny. Popcorn, but Corny for short.”

“Yeah! Cause you had some really bad old lady name that you hated, but your dad always insisted on calling you --.”

“Bertha.”

“Right! So everybody else called you Corny and you…”

“Were a beach bunny.”

“Played volleyball!” He paused, “You were really good, by the way.”

Cass snorted, “Oh, sure. I was such a fine athlete.”

“Well, I thought you were great. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Yeah, that was kinda the idea. That’s why the bikinis they kept me in didn’t exactly have a lot of support.”

“Heh.” No they certainly had not. Tiny little things with ruffles and bows that bounced along with every move she made. He’d been the most popular kid in Lamplight after he’d paid a scavver five caps for that holo.

“Did you notice I even went to bed in one during the slumber party scene?”

Mac laughed, “Oh, was that not a thing girls did back then?”

“No, it was not.”

“Wait, you said it was a series, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“Twelve total. They cranked out like, three a year for four years while I was in high school… or, well, when I would have been in high school if my mother hadn’t homeschooled me.”

“Dang.” Double dang. He’d only ever stumbled across that one movie and the only reason he’d even bought the damn thing was because --

“I bet you thought it was porn, didn’t you?”

His face immediately went bright red. “What!  _ No! _ Of course not!”

“Cause of the title, right? I mean, it  _ sounds _ like a porno. Most of them did.”

“What were some of the other titles?”

She counted off with her fingers, “Beach Bunny Barbecue, Beach Bunny Hop-a-Long, Beach Bunny Towel Time, Beach Bunny Blanket Bop, Beach Bunny Humps Hawaii --”

“Wait, wait, wait, that last one isn’t real.”

“You think?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Probably would have been a lot more fun to shoot if it had been.”

“You know, I’ve heard they still make movies out west. New Reno and in the NCR or whatever. Maybe you should head out that way. Some ‘em how it’s really done. Knock everybody’s socks off.”

“Eh. I wasn’t ever that great, really. I was just bubbly and cute and looked nice in a swimsuit. Besides, I was a lot younger back then. Actresses for stuff like that have an expiration date and mine is long past.”

He frowned, “You don’t look that old to me.”

“Well, I  _ am _ that old, so there you go.” When all he did was frown harder, she sighed. “I’m technically old enough to be your ancestor, but from my point of view, I’m thirty-eight.”

His eyes went wide, “No freaking way.”

“Yup.”

She was sixteen years older than him. Old enough to literally be his mother. Holy shit.

Cass watched his face as he processed this new information and tried to not take it personally. “I know, right? Practically got one foot in the grave over here. Kids ought to call me Grandmama Cass.”

That seemed to snap him out of it. “No! No, it’s just you’re… you don’t  _ look _ thirty-eight. That’s all.”

She shrugged, “Genetics. Plus, life wasn’t quite so hard on a body back then. I definitely feel thirty-eight…  _ hundred.” _

Mac laughed, “Well, you did just get stabbed in the chest by a radscorpion yesterday. That makes me feel pretty dang old myself.”

“Hmm.”

“You don’t look a day over twenty-eight.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. She rolled her eyes, “If you’re going to go with flattery, you should at least make it believable, honey.”

“No, I mean it! That’s how old I thought you were!”

Hmm. He really did mean it. Maybe this is part of why he was so puppyish around her. He probably thought of her as a prospect or something. Maybe now he’d finally understand why she didn’t go further than she had the night before.

Shit, she shouldn’t even have gone that far, truth be told.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you. Thank you, Mac.”

He looked so proud of himself. Then again, impressing little old ladies used to be what Boy Scouts were all about, right?

“By the way, do you feel alright? Everything heal up okay?”

“Oh… yeah, no, it’s fine.” She shivered a little and gripped her mug a bit tighter for the extra warmth. “I’m just cold is all.”

“Cold?”

“It's the antivenom. It makes me cold for about a day after.”

“Oh… are you going to be okay to go to Goodneighbor then?”

Cass sighed and stared down at her coffee. She’d wanted to go last night for a recalibration of sorts. Get her head on straight. Hancock could lift her up out of the chaos of her mind and then Deacon would bring her back down, shatter the pieces around her and make them all fit back together again. Just like they always did. She’d be less confused about Mac, less liable to make another dangerous mistake with him.

But fuck, she was  _ cold. _ She’d woken this morning huddled so close to the fire that her sleeping bag had actually melted a little at the corner and still she hadn’t felt warm. The thought of dragging herself across open country, where the wind whipped ice crystals and radiation alike at ninety miles an hour, made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

“We could probably stay a day. I’m sure there’s plenty to do around here and Sam wouldn’t mind.” It would be fine, surely. She just had to make sure Mac took his dinner with him tonight. No more room service.

Ha. Another joke Deacon wasn’t around to appreciate.

They spent the day doing light chores around the settlement. Mac mostly helped adjust scopes and recalibrate turrets while Cass stayed indoors and did things like mending and anything else that kept her close to the fire. She was starting to feel pretty positive about the decision. Every time she’d seen Mac, he’d thrown her a friendly wave and a smile and there hadn’t been any awkwardness at all. Unless she counted the time she called out to him and he turned and walked right into a pole.

Which she wasn’t.

Could have happened to anybody.

That evening, just before dinner, Somerville got another guest. Sam’s sister-in-law had come for a visit. Cass was so excited to meet Dottie and Jim’s aunt that she didn’t even realize what her arrival meant for the evening.

Mac did though. Once the kids had finally gone to bed, he’d stood politely at the door with her gear in his arms, all ready to go. She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks when she finally realized where she’d be sleeping.

Snug as a bug in their cozy little shack. Where she’d just embarrassed the crap out of herself the night before. Fantastic.

He lead the way for them, which she was grateful for. It gave her time to slap a bit of steel to her spine and give herself the pep talk of the century.

Yes, he was cute. Yes, he was sweet. Yes, he was essentially a walking caricature of most of her girlhood fantasies.

However! She was a fully grown, mature woman. He was practically a baby. She already had not just one, but two boyfriends, who were more than a handful of trouble each. He did not need to get mixed up in all that. She had spent the entirety of her teen years not just surviving but thriving in uncomfortable situations, including her first kiss ever being for the camera. Mac had clearly never come into contact with a lady as experienced as she was and, frankly, was nowhere near her league in that regard. Better he find someone at his own level and discover things naturally, through experimentation and personal growth. As one should.

Yes. She could absolutely do this. No problem whatsoever. Honestly, she was probably making this a much bigger deal in her head than it was. She’d always had a problem with romanticizing people and situations the second she stopped looking directly at them. Chances were very good he wasn’t even as attractive as her brain kept telling her he was.

Then they were there. Mac opened the door, tossed her stuff inside and then  _ held it for her, _ like an actual gentleman. It meant she had to slide past him, her body brushing against his. He seemed… taller, somehow. How did that work? She’d literally just been walking behind him but now she felt like he was towering over her.

Fuck.

“Thank you, honey.”

He smiled at her and she could swear his eyes were honest to God twinkling, “You’re welcome.”

Cass stood, a little nervous, by her bed while he came in and got a fire started. She narrowed her eyes and studied his movements, but there was nothing sneaky there. She was used to Deacon pulling shit like this. Being slick and pretending like he wasn’t. All innocent smiles and accidental touches and then  _ bam! _ Next thing you knew, your panties were stuffed in your mouth and your ankles were over your head.

Mac wasn’t Deacon though. He was a little too honest for things like that, probably. Maybe.

He finally felt her gaze and looked up, “What?”

She shook her head, “Nothing. I just um… well, I’m  _ super _ tired.”

“Yeah, me, too. Farming’s the worst.” He turned back to the fire and poked at it a bit. “Should catch soon. Then we can go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Exactly. Just sleeping. She’d slept in here with all sorts of people. Once even with a super mutant who barely fit through the door. This was totally fine.

He stood and looked a little uncertain, “Uh… I mean, I know we usually sleep in our clothes on the road, but if you wanna change, I can just, you know, stare at the wall or whatever.”

Oh, God, what a sweetheart. He was trying so hard to make sure she was comfortable. Cass smiled fondly at him. Mac wasn’t the type to press his advantage. He really was a gentleman, underneath that scruffy, adorable exterior.

“Thanks. That’d be great.”

“No problem.” He turned away, giving her all the privacy he could in the small room, and started taking off his gear.

She kept a wary eye on him, just in case. True, he was obviously making an effort and all, but he _was_ only twenty-two. His biological impulses would be working against him here. After all, if there was one thing she knew, it was young men.

She’d only spent half her life trying to get away from them.

Her preferred nightwear for when she got like this was an old, but serviceable oversized sweatshirt and thick woolen socks. Not exactly Frederick's or anything, but it got the job done. She would have worn pants, but experience had taught her that the second she got warm again, she’d get hot and then sweat would happen and things would get gross.

Anyway, it’s not like she was showing anything. Her sweatshirt went below midthigh. She had summer culottes shorter than that.

Cass made sure she was fully tucked under her blanket before she spoke. “All clear.”

Mac turned and grinned, mischievous and criminally charming. “Did you remember to pack your sleeping bikini?”

A small snort escaped her, “No.”

“Dang.”

He didn’t seem to have the same qualms about privacy as she did. Cass watched with wide eyes as he stripped off his overshirt and had to force herself to look away. His movements were efficient. He wasn’t trying to show off or anything. The problem was the boy didn’t really  _ need _ to show off. He was already impressive enough without any bells or whistles. 

She stared at the ceiling, heart pounding in her chest like she was some silly teenager. His bed's springs squeaked as he settled in and she finally relaxed a little. Her eyes darted over, checking to see if he was decent or not before she finally turned her head.

“Good night, honey.”

“Yeah, night.” Mac finally took his hat off, ran a hand through his hair, smiled at her one last time, and flopped down.

Her heart sped up again. That fucking glorious hair. So thick and fluffy. It had been impossible to not touch last night and she could still feel how it felt sliding through her fingers. She even liked the color. She’d originally thought it was just brown, but there was gold shot through it, too. He’d probably been a cute little towhead as a kid.

What was she saying? He still  _ was _ a kid. Goddammit. She needed to remember that.

Getting to sleep was a fight. She was entirely too aware of Mac being just a few feet away. This was ridiculous. She felt ridiculous. Was this some kind of crush? She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d --

Oh, wait, yes she could. That had been Deacon and look how well  _ that _ had turned out.

Eventually though, exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a fitful kind of sleep.

Mac had set his watch alarm to beep in two hour intervals throughout the night. He didn’t want to risk the fire dying and Cass getting more chilled than she already was. At the first two hour mark, all was well. She was curled up on her side, snuggled down into her pillow. Her hair had been left down for sleep and he spent probably longer than was necessary staring at it in the soft light. It reminded him of those church windows you sometimes saw that had the lady with the big yellow circle around her head. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to be about, but Cass had the same thing happening. She usually kept it braided or in a bun, so he didn’t get to see it in its full glory very often.

He felt like it was probably okay to indulge in this moment a little. He went back to sleep with the happy, oddly innocent fantasy of running his hands through it at his leisure spinning in his head.

Four hours in though, and she was dreaming. She’d rolled onto her back, hands twitching a little while she murmured to herself. Mac added another log to the fire and watched her with some concern. Whatever it was about, it definitely wasn’t a happy dream. Tears caught the firelight and shimmered as they slowly rolled down her face.

He couldn’t have that.

“Cass?” Mac leaned over her and poked her shoulder a few times. “Hey, Cass?” She frowned in her sleep but didn’t wake up. He sat down next to her and shook her shoulder a bit this time, a little more force behind his voice.  _ “Cass. _ Hey, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Her eyes flew open, pain and panic in them before she found his face. She blinked at him a few times and attempted a watery smile.

“Oh...hey.”

“Hey.”

“What uh… what’s up?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh.” She shrugged and rubbed her eyes. “Sorry. It happens sometimes.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

“No, thank you.”

Mac lifted an eyebrow and gave her the same look he used to give Lucy whenever she tried to get away with pretending everything was okay. It apparently worked on all women because Cass huffed at him and shrugged again.

“I had a baby. Once upon a time. I lost him. Sometimes I dream about it.”

Ah, fuck. He’d figured that’s how it went down, but a possible theory wasn’t the same as confirmation. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah. Well… thanks, or… whatever you’re supposed to say.”

“I read some stuff in the paper. It was the Institute, right?”

“Right.”

“That sucks.”

Cass laughed, “Yeah. Yeah, it sucks. That’s a great way to put it.”

“What was his name?”

“Shaun.”

He nodded, “That’s a good name.”

“I liked it.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

She made a face, “No, so… I guess I’ll just go ahead and get up. What time is it?”

“A little past one.”

“Ugh. Crap. I’m going to be dragging today.”

“You should try to go back to sleep.”

“No, I shouldn’t. I’ll just end up dreaming something worse. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” She smiled at him, “But you should go to sleep. I’m going to be useless tomorrow so at least one of us should be well rested.”

She couldn’t just not sleep. Especially if Goodneighbor was their destination for tomorrow. She'd need her wits about her.

“You know, back in Lamplight, whenever somebody had a bad dream, we’d all dogpile on them. It always kept the nightmares from coming back.”

“Uh huh.” She gave him a dirty look. “Are you offering to sleep on top of me, honey? How very  _ magnanimous _ of you.”

“No. Of course not.” Before he could talk himself out of it, Mac crawled over her and settled in behind her. He stayed on top of the blankets and pulled her close, snuggling against her. “I was thinking more like this?”

Her cheeks were pink. Or maybe that was just his imagination. “Oh.”

“Is this alright?”

“It’s alright.”

“Okay.” He squeezed her a little harder for just a second. “Go on to sleep, Cass. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

“God, you are so nice.”

She said it like it was a bad thing and Mac frowned, “Thanks?”

Cass turned onto her side towards him, a troubled look on her face. “I just… you know it’s a bad idea to want to be involved with me, right?”

“What?”

“I’m… well, there are a million reasons honestly, but even setting all those aside, there's the simple fact that I don’t want to take advantage of you, honey. You’re so sweet and --”

“Hey, I don’t care if you take advantage of me. Take all the advantage you want.”

She sighed, “See? This is the problem.”

“There’s no problem.” The troubled look grew and he pressed on. “There’s no problem! I don’t… I know you’re with Hancock or whatever, but… Cass, you gotta know it’s not okay. What he does to you, I mean. You deserve better than that. You deserve  _ someone _ better than that. I’m not sayin’ it’s me or anything, but if you need help getting away from him or, shoot, I dunno, just want somebody to screw on the side as revenge or whatever, I’m down. I am all the way down.”

“Mac…”

“No, I mean it. I really do!”

“Honey… Hancock didn’t leave those bruises on me.”

“What?”

“Yeah, wasn’t him.”

“I… so who was it? Gimme a name.”

She actually laughed, “I could give you several, actually, but… no. That’s… it’s got nothing to do with you, and I don’t want it to, alright? So, you know, don’t worry about Hancock.”

She was so close. Right there in front of him. His eyes slipped from hers and settled on her mouth. He scooted a tiny bit closer. “So… are you saying I shouldn’t worry about Hancock in general or I shouldn’t worry about whatever claim he has on you?”

“Nobody has a  _ claim _ on me. I do what I want.”

“That so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hmm.” A little closer and their noses were touching. “Anything you wanna do right now?”

She smiled softly, “You are incorrigible.”

“Is that a fancy way of saying ‘yes’?”

Cass sighed and stared at him hard, clearly trying to talk herself into or out of something. Her hand came up and brushed his hair back off his forehead. “Maybe… can you be good?”

It was happening! He’d made it happen, somehow! He actually wanted to wiggle all over with excitement. Mac was trying real hard to be seen as a fully-functional adult here though, so he did not. Instead he nodded solemnly, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ll do what I say?”

Another nod, “Yes, ma’am.”

"You know, I think you would have made an excellent car salesman before the war."

"What?"

She sat up, pushing him onto his back and gliding over him. He stared at her, beyond stupefied by his luck and, not having instructions, put his hands up by his head against the mattress. Whatever was in her eyes darkened and she smiled down at him.

“You're just very persuasive. You’re also awfully pretty laying there all helpless like that. What a good baby.” She leaned forward, her hands sliding along his arms, scratching lightly with her nails. She threaded her fingers through his, pinning him down even though they both knew he was far stronger than she was.

It was hard for him to remember that, though, with that hungry look she was staring at him with and the feel of her squirming over his lap.

She was close enough to taste, but he waited as she nuzzled his nose with hers. Her mouth brushed his more than a few times, as though she was testing him. When his only response was a helpless whimper, she pouted at him for a moment before nipping at his lower lip.

“Such a patient boy. Do you want to kiss me, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Good boy.” Her lips finally met his and her tongue swept into his mouth, swirling around his and drawing a moan from his throat. Mac’s hands tightened around hers and he couldn’t help but move his hips, trying to match the lazy way she was grinding against him. He felt her smile against his mouth and she broke the kiss, laughing when he tried to chase her.

“Still a greedy baby.” Cass let his hands go and pulled her sweater off over her head. She gave him a few seconds to stare before she plucked at his undershirt. “Take this off.”

Mac scrambled to obey, sitting up enough to tear his shirt off. Instinct said to lay back down, but he paused. He was so close to her. If he just reached out, he could kiss her again. He stared at her and she stared back.

A tiny smirk appeared. A bit of a warning in her voice. “Well?”

Fuck. That tone. That authoritative, firm but indulgent tone. He didn’t really understand any of this, or why he was so into it, but if she’d just keep speaking to him like that, he’d do whatever she wanted. She’d already blown his mind last night. He trusted she’d keep doing it so long as he was good.

He lay back down and put his hands back on the mattress. The way his obedience made her smirk turn into a sweet smile had his heart pounding.

“Have you ever done anything like this before, pumpkin?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Okay. We’ll go slow then. You like slow, right?”

Not really. Or at least, he never had before. “Yes, ma’am.”

Cass set her hand in his hair and pulled gently, guiding him up to her. “Remember what I said last night. Hands stay above the waist.”

Mac’s hands moved automatically, slipping around her waist in a loose hold as his face was pressed against her breasts. His whole world became nothing but the silky feel of her body against him and the taste of her skin. He burrowed against her, blindly searching for a nipple and latching on with enough bite for her to shudder.

_ “Ah! _ Baby… not so hard.”

His arms tightened around her even as he let the abused bud fall from his mouth. The warm, slow slide of his tongue over it an unspoken apology before he moved on to the other. This time he knew better and kept his mouth gentle. Slow, easy suckling that had her whimpering as she rode the bulge still contained in his pants.

He spread his hands out along her back, marveling a little at how smooth and soft she really was. Everything about her seemed designed for this. Her breasts were the pillowiest he’d ever encountered and he’d never tasted someone who just seemed to be naturally sweet. Her hair tickled the back of his hand and he slid it further up, tangling in the long tresses and gripping at the base of her neck. Not hard enough to take control. He just wanted to anchor her to him as much as he possibly could.

She arched back a little, like she was expecting him to pull and laughed softly when all he did was start a long, slow trail of kisses up from her breast to her throat. This time, when their lips met, there was no teasing. He claimed her mouth with his, a little harder than she probably would have liked, just to try to get his point across the only way he knew how.

He was a man. Fully grown. It was fine if she wanted to pretend otherwise, but he needed to know that she knew that. On some level, anyway.

It didn’t surprise him one bit when she pushed him back down, back to his place lying prone under her. Her lips were swollen and she was panting. He couldn’t help but smirk at her, feeling just a bit cocky and bold.

The sudden sharp sting of her hand slapping his cheek brought him right back down to earth. He jumped, staring up at her in disbelief.

“Naughty boys get punished, Bobby. Do you  _ want _ Mama to punish you?”

Oh, God, did he? Fuck. He couldn’t deny he was curious and excited over the prospect, but that was an unknown. He preferred to walk the path that guaranteed her fucking him. Somehow. He didn’t even care if she just used her hands this time, he just needed it.

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Better behave yourself.”

He nodded and almost started begging when she sat up on her knees, all that delicious pressure suddenly gone from his cock. A small whine left his throat and she looked up when it did, smiling at him.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

She quickly undid his fly and, as he watched, he finally realized she was just wearing panties. He’d assumed she had on pants this entire time. Another whine and she was outright giggling at him. The sound of it made his cock swell in her hand.

“Poor baby. You’ve been positively neglected, haven’t you? I can tell.” She carefully eased his foreskin down, with her thumb before slowly pushing his cock back against his stomach, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. “Is this okay?”

He wanted to touch her so, so bad, but she hadn’t said he could, so he settled for balling his hands into fists. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Cass lowered herself over him, wiggling down until he could both see and feel the way her folds, still hidden by those stupid panties, hugged his cock. He groaned and tried to sneak in a few hip twitches. It just felt so hot and good, even if it wasn’t what he really wanted. She leaned over him, bracing her hands on his chest, and smirked. It was wicked and cruel and he finally realized this was some kind of punishment. As fucking delicious as this was, he was still in trouble.

Goddamn.

“I think you have real potential, sweetheart. Have I ever told you that?”

“N-no, ma’am.”

“Hmm, well, you do. I think you’ll make somebody very happy someday. I really do.” The softest of kisses rained down across his face and ended with a thorough frenching that had him rutting against her by the time she pulled away. “You still have a lot to learn, though, so I expect you to pay attention and  _ be good, _ alright?”

He nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She seemed to almost want to take pity on him for a moment. “You may put your hands on my hips, but nowhere else.”

The tremor from this morning was back as he carefully set his hands on her body. He kept his eyes glued to her face and only relaxed when she seemed pleased at how cautious he was being. Then she began to move.

Slow, smooth, like a wave over him. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. Tried to focus on nothing more than keeping his hold on her light and gentle, even though he wanted to sink his fingers into the ample flesh under them. She rode him like that for almost a minute before she spoke again. A small, dangerous kind of smile beaming down as she tortured him.

“Feel good, pumpkin?”

“M’hmm.”

Her head fell back a little and she moaned, “Mmm, it does, doesn’t it? You’re so hard for me. Such a good boy.”

The sway of her breasts was hypnotic. Mac’s mouth was actually watering at the idea of having one in his mouth. His hands flexed on her hips and she turned her attention back to his face, laughing when she saw how hard he was staring.

“You were thinking of being naughty again, weren’t you?”

Shit. He shook his head, “No, Mama.”

Cass leaned forward a little, shivering as her clit ground against him. “Do you want to make Mama cum, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Hmm… I bet you do.”

She pressed a few biting kisses to his chest, up his neck and nibbled at his earlobe. That same, slow rhythm driving him insane the whole damn time. All he could think about was how wet her panties now were and what it would feel like to move them aside and ease into her.

“Let's play a little game, hmm?"

"A game?"

"M'hmm. It's called 'Good Things Come to Boys who Wait'."

"Okay." He didn't even know anything but the name but he was already desperate to win.

"The way it works is, if you can make Mama cum before you do, you get to pick where you finish. How does that sound?”

Heaven. That sounded like heaven. “Really?”

“M’hmm.”

“Even inside you?”

“Is that were you want to do it?”

Just thinking about it jumped him about three minutes closer to blowing his load. “Yes… yes, God, please… fuck, Mama, please.”

She laughed softly and snuggled against his chest, “I’m the one who should be saying please, baby. This is all up to you.”

Mac whined and bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Anything to stave off the inevitable.

Cass moaned softly, her hands settling on his shoulders and gripping tightly.  _ “Please, _ pumpkin. Please make Mama cum. I want to feel you inside me  _ so _ bad.”

His hips stuttered against her and the way she chuckled was downright evil.

_ “Mmm, _ it’ll feel so good. You’re so thick and hard.” She raised up enough to pout at him, angelic and sweet. “You might even hurt Mama fucking me with a cock like that.”

He shook his head, “N-no. Never. I’d never --”

“Oh, but you  _ might.” _

She raised back up and looked down, watching his cock go from red to purple. Her hips had a swivel to them now that was just completely unfair. A constant stream of pre-cum was forming a puddle on his stomach. She idly swept a finger through it and waited until she had his full and undivided attention before licking it off. Mac gasped and flexed under her, closing his eyes and praying for a miracle.

_ “Mmm, _ but I’d let you. Let you cum nice and deep inside. I bet it’ll feel  _ so  _ good when you push into me...think it’ll feel good, baby?”

_ “Fuck!” _ His hands clamped down on her hips as he swelled once again, finally losing the battle. He pushed her down as hard as he could and moved her in rough, jerking passes as his cock twitched and erupted, heavy ropes painting his stomach and chest as he grunted and writhed.

By the time he came back down to earth, all he was aware of was how good he felt and her quiet giggling.

Mac slowly opened his eyes and stared up at her, sweaty and out of breath. Wonder and devotion written across his face until reality caught up with him.

“Ah,  _ shit!” _

His obvious irritation just had Cass laughing that much harder at him and he grumbled to himself, petulant and frustrated. He still had a death grip on her hips and he was at least able to convince his hands to let her go. At least  _ some _ parts of his body did what he wanted them to do. Fuck.

“Was I at least close? Please tell me I was close.”

She grinned, “You want me to lie to you, babydoll?”

“Goddammit.” He gave her a sheepish sort of smile. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Flattering, even. Don’t worry about it.” She grabbed her sweater and slipped it back on before leaving the bed.

Mac sat up, suddenly terrified he’d really fucked up. “You don’t have to go!” The words blurted out before he could help it and he was almost ashamed of the neediness in his voice.

Her response was calm and soothing. “I’m still not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Cass opened her pack and eventually came up with a washcloth, holding it up. “See? Just wanted to get you clean.”

“Oh. Right.”

She sat on the side of the bed and carefully wiped him down, staring just below his Adam’s apple. He hadn’t even realized it had gotten that far. “Is this a normal amount for you?”

He glanced down and shrugged, “I guess.”

“Hmm.”

“Why?”

“Nothing, I just thought last night was a lot but I figured that made sense if you hadn’t, you know, in a while… but, I mean, it’s not. Obviously. That’s…” She shook her head. “Young men. I guess that’s just young men for you.”

How old was Hancock anyway? Did ghouls even cum like humans did? “Oh.”

“There. All clean.” She folded the rag and set it on the floor. “We should get back to sleep.”

“Wait though, I… I mean, don’t you wanna…”

A careless shrug, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

His hand found hers and held it. “But I’ve  _ been _ worrying about it since last night. I mean, I kinda owe you --”

She immediately snatched it back. “You don’t  _ owe _ me.” Her voice was hard and cold. “Nobody  _ owes me _ anything.”

“Cass --”

“I didn’t do it to… I mean, you aren’t under any kind of obligation to me, Mac.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She frowned at him, still hostile and bristled up. “It’s really not.” He cautiously took her hand again and held it a little tighter this time. “What I meant was, you’ve made me feel amazing two nights in a row. I just… I want to make you feel that amazing, too. Is that okay?”

“Oh.” The ice in her eyes thawed. “Yeah, that’s… I guess that’s probably how it should be, isn’t it?”

“As far as I know.”

She snorted, “That was rhetorical, honey.”

“Oh.” He felt a little silly but he was glad she was smiling again and chuckled along with her. “So, can I?”

“Can you what?”

He brought his free hand up to slip into her hair and gently pull her face a little closer to his. “Can I try to make you feel amazing now?” God, her eyes were even prettier up close. Chocolate and caramel at the center, a hint of green around the edges, gold flecks throughout. “Please?” It was an afterthought, but she always seemed to appreciate good manners.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She looked so uncertain now. So different than just a few minutes ago when she’d been so confident and in control.

“Well, then why don’t we try and find out for sure?” He ghosted his lips along hers and felt his heart jump when she shivered. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with this uncharacteristic passivity. Maybe she just wanted to see what he’d do without her calling the shots.

What he  _ wanted _ to do was throw her down on the bed and sink into her heat. Fuck her until she saw stars and came screaming his name. She’d probably had her fill of being tossed around though. Ghouls were stronger than regular humans, and Hancock, from the rumors he'd heard, was a young ghoul, which meant he was even stronger than that. Cass was a tiny slip of a thing. It would be all too easy for him to rough her up. She wouldn’t have a chance at long term survival with a guy like that.

So Mac went slow. Slower than slow. His mouth settled on hers properly and he took his time tasting and savoring her. Tried to show her the kind of gentle, careful treatment she deserved. By the time he let her go, she looked dazed. Her lips swollen and her eyes dark and dreamy.

He took a moment to appreciate the picture she made and smiled at her. “Come on, Cass. Give me a chance.”

"Persistent, aren't you?"

"When I have to be, sure."

She worried her lip for a moment. "Alright."

Mac grinned and went to kiss her again, but she gently put her hand over his mouth. He froze and wondered why that had him so excited suddenly.

"Sit on the edge of the bed. Feet on the floor."

Oh. That was why. More instructions. He'd never exactly been the following type before, but something about her just made him want to. Made him want to follow every rule, every whim, every command she gave him. She stood while he swung his legs over the side and then sat on his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

Her arms wound loosely around his shoulders and she nuzzled his neck. "Remember your hands." The reminder was softly murmured against his ear.

Mac was both disappointed that he still wasn't allowed to touch her like he wanted and eager to show her how well he could obey. His hands sat on her waist, where they were supposed to and he wrestled with indecision before ultimately deciding to just ask.

"Can I put them under your sweater?"

He felt her smile against his neck, "Hmm. Would you like to?"

"Yes, please."

She sighed and rolled her hips, a quiet whimper escaping her throat. "Those good manners of yours get me every time, baby."

"Is that a yes?"

"M'hmm."

It wasn't much as far as privileges went, but he was grateful nonetheless. He decided to keep one hand at her side, enjoying the fluid feel of how she moved. Encouraging it by applying the slightest pressure, pressing down just a tiny bit. Probably not actually helping anything, but a guy could dream, right?

His other hand slipped under her heavy sweater and caressed her with feather-light touches, calloused fingertips just barely brushing against her nipple. He smiled at the way it made her shiver and nibbled at the pulse fluttering in her neck.

The way she moaned, so quiet and with just a hint of a whine in it, had him hard as a rock again. Already. If she’d just let him have a more active roll, let him show her just how happy he could make her, he could die a happy man.

“Cass, please? Please let me touch you.”

She was breathing faster, almost a pant. “You are touching me, silly.”

He groaned in frustration and caught her earlobe with his mouth before whispering, “You know what I mean. I can already feel how wet you are, beautiful.” He let his hand slip down a bit, just letting his pinky touch the topmost edge of her panties. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands. Want me to show you?”

“Behave.”

The word sent a shiver through him and he forced his hand to stay in place. She’d already soaked through two layers of clothing to his leg. It was killing him that she wouldn’t just let herself go. Give in like she clearly wanted to. She had a level of self-control he’d never encountered and he had no idea how to get around it.

Her hand trailed down his chest, sharp nails scratching just this side of too hard against his skin. She grasped his cock and he whimpered, burying his face in her neck and just hoping to survive whatever was coming next. Cass giggled at his obvious nerves and gripped him firmly.

“Want to know a secret, baby love?”

“M’hmm.”

She began to pump him in time with her grinding. “I’ve never had a cock as big as yours. I wonder what it would feel like.”

Mac felt heat bloom under his skin. It spread everywhere before pooling in his loins. “Cass,  _ please…” _

Her laughter, though soft, was ruthless and cruel. “Maybe if you’re really,  _ really _ good, someday I’ll let you put the tip in.”

He shouldn’t beg. He really shouldn’t. He was a dangerous, deadly mercenary. He’d had a reputation for violence and ballsy arrogance by the time he was ten. Not to mention, he was nearly twice her size. Taller by at least foot, stronger, faster. A husband at eighteen, a father by twenty. He’d done monstrous things in his life just to hear the sweet, sweet sound of caps jingling in his pocket. An equal opportunity killer, soaked to the gills in the blood of innocents and assholes alike.

Why did none of that seem to matter here?

“Cass, please? Please. God, you’re so… I’m… fuck,  _ please?” _

Another breathless giggle, “Aren’t used to begging, hmm?”

“I’m sorry. I’m… tell me what to do. Anything. Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Promises, promises, babydoll. Careful what you give away.”

_ “Please?” _

“Talk to me, Bobby. Tell me what you’d do if I let you.”

Oh, that he could definitely do. If there was one thing in life he excelled at, it was running his fucking mouth. “Okay… first thing I’d do is wiggle a couple fingers into that sweet little pussy of yours. Feel how hot you get inside. Make you cum all over my hand. I’d make you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Her tongue traced along the shell of his ear and it sent shivers down his spine. “I bet you would. Then what?”

“Then… then I’d eat you out. Finally get a taste of you. Been thinking about it since the first day we met.”

That seemed to surprise her, “You have?”

“M’hmm. Jerked off in my room thinking about getting my tongue between your legs. The way you wiggled just…  _ fuck. _ I'd watch you squirm and make you cum until you couldn’t stand it.”

She was definitely panting by now. “My goodness, what an imagination.”

“Then, once you were nice and warmed up, I’d lay back and watch you take my cock. Inch by inch. God, you’d feel so good. Do it nice and slow, too. Fill you up until you couldn’t think about anything else.”

The hand on his cock was gone suddenly and he could have wept. She paused her grinding and he looked down just in time to watch her hand disappear into her panties. The noise he made almost could have been mistaken for a sob.

Cass nudged his head back up with her own and kissed him, gentle and deep, like they were real sweethearts. “Do you need to cum again, pumpkin?”

What he  _ needed _ was fucking  _ below the waist privileges. _ “Yes, ma’am.”

“Me, too… let’s have a race. See who wins this time.”

He didn’t even know how to win. Was he supposed to show he could outlast her finally? Or did he only have until she came? Goddammit. He wrapped a hand around himself almost reluctantly, knowing he was already right on the edge, but pumping anyway because it’s what she wanted.

Her mouth nibbled at his and he just couldn’t help himself. Mac kissed her first this time, trying so hard to copy the soft way she did it but failing miserably. He was just so wound up inside and it showed in the passionate, ravenous way he devoured her.

He could hear her fingering herself. Hear the delicious, wet sound of a perfectly worked up pussy. Could easily imagine just how her juices would coat those nimble little fingers of hers, how hot and succulent it must feel.

His hand finally abandoned her waist and anchored back in her hair, pulling just enough to get her to bare her throat to him. His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, memorizing the dark, heated way she stared at him, the flush in her cheeks and the way she was panting for future lonely nights, before he brushed his lips down her jawline. He painted her neck in warm, wet kisses, nibbling here and there, just a hint of teeth to see if it was okay. She squirmed in his hold, her breath stuttering. It emboldened him further and he sealed his lips to the tender spot where her pulse fluttered under his tongue, sucking hard with a soft growl. Leaving what he sincerely hoped would just be the first of many love bites.

“Oh, God,  _ Bobby. _ I-I’m… Baby, I’m --” Cass gasped and arched against him, her whole body going still before tremors swept over her.

He smiled against her heated skin and his hand left her hair to pull her closer as she shuddered and whimpered through her release. She nuzzled against him, still shivering around her fingers, licking at the sweat on his neck like a kitten.

“Keep going, baby. Don’t stop. Cum for Mama.”

Whatever joy he’d felt at helping her finally cum collapsed back into shameless need. He groaned, his head falling back while he worked himself over. Cass hummed in approval and he felt ridiculously proud of himself for making her happy.

“Good boy. Good, good boy.”

She cooed at him and he roused himself enough to watch her hungrily watching his cock. It made his toes tingle and he wanted to tell her. Had to let her know how bad he still wanted her and how this was  _ killing _ him in the best possible way, but all that came out was a soft whimper. Cass looked up at his face and smiled like she already knew. Already understood everything that was going on in his head.

Mac could barely think at all. Something wet and warm was being pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth without being asked, sucking at the offering on instinct. Creamy, the slightest taste of salt, a hint of tartness that made his mouth water. Delicious. His mind was so fogged by lust that it took a few seconds to realize he was tasting  _ her. _ He’d earned it. Somehow.

Her fingers pushed down on his tongue, far back enough that it was almost unpleasant. He relaxed his throat and tried hard to swallow around the feeling. Her smile was everything. He would do anything to keep her smiling.

“There you go. There, there, there. Just a little taste.” Her fingers slipped free from his mouth and she kissed him gently. “Now do it. Cum for Mama.”

He must have been even closer than he’d realized because her words triggered a sudden wave of pleasure through him and he found himself falling over the edge. A dribbling waterfall this time, splashing down between his feet. His cock felt sensitive and sore, but he kept going, kept stroking to make sure he got out every last drop. Her hand eventually stopped him. Soft fingers twining with his as she kissed him through his shuddering before she let him wrap both arms around her. With his head buried against her neck and the comforting feel of her combing through his hair, he was finally able to calm down enough to stop whimpering and catch his breath.

Cass petted and shushed him, rocking back and forth until he finally stopped trembling. She kept her voice quiet and calm. “My sweet baby love. Such a good boy.”

Mac wasn’t even sure why he felt so exposed and vulnerable, but he did. “Did I make you feel good?”

She laughed softly, “Yes, you did. Thank you, sweetheart. Did I--”

“That felt fu-freaking amazing.” God, she didn’t even have her stupid panties off and it was  _ still _ the hottest sex he’d ever had.

“Oh, good. I’m so glad.” She rubbed his back soothingly, “But we really should go to sleep now, pumpkin.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” When she went to move off his lap, he refused to let her go and she chuckled. “You made a mess on the floor. I need to clean it.”

He shook his head and tried to burrow closer, “Leave it. I’ll clean it in the morning. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“M’hmm.”

“Okay.”

He’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t manhandle her or toss her around, but she  _ was _ tiny. It was nothing to pull her along with him as he lay back down and roll them both so he could snuggle against the comforting feel of her sweater, her heartbeat in his ear filling him with calm and a strange sense of security.

It was only when she huffed a bit and ran a hand through his hair that he realized he hadn’t even asked if this was okay.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart… you’re a little spoon type, huh?”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She yawned and shifted under him into a more comfortable position before settling her arm around his shoulders, her other hand tangled in his hair. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Goodnight, Cass.”

“Goodnight, Bobby.”


	5. Emotional Recall

Cass had kept her mind firmly on business since they’d left Somerville. It wasn’t easy. MacCready had been overly solicitous all morning. Too pleasant to be real. Almost bowing and scraping every time she passed.

It was getting on her nerves.

That look was in his eyes, too. The same one she’d seen at every meet-and-greet during her career as a teen actress. Boys who thought they were in love with you and actually knew who you were just because they’d seen your movies and read some silly puff piece in a magazine. They were all the same. Big, sappy eyes and kissy faces.

That had always gotten on her nerves, too.

In fact, a big part of why she’d married her husband was he was wholly unmoved by her fame. They’d met while she was shooting one of her later films,  _ Rack ‘Em Up!. _ A ridiculous romcom with her as the innocent goody two-shoes on vacation who falls for a townie pool hall hoodlum and somehow, through the power of infatuation and chaste kisses, transforms him into a whole new, respectable, boring person.

Filmed on location in Hawaii, of course, because why not? The studio had always used any excuse to get her in a bikini.

Ben had been part of a company out of Bellows AF Station, recruited to be extras during a bar fight, when the hoodlum starts a brawl with a group of sailors on leave. Supposedly to showcase just how naughty pants and subversive he really was before her character saved his soul. Or something.

He hadn’t really caught her eye at first, truth be told. All soldiers kind of looked the same to her back then and he really wasn’t her type. A little too much Sidney Poitier and not enough Sammy Davis Jr. Just far more quiet and introverted than she generally liked. But while his buddies had fallen all over themselves trying to get her autograph or a picture or whatever, he’d been the only one to talk to her like she was a person, and not just a name on a billboard. The only one who seemed to notice just how fucking bored she felt and how stupid everything was.

It started with a joke. Just one snickering, off the cuff remark of his that immediately had her giggling behind her hand. They’d had a wonderful time making fun of everything from the script to the set design to the absurdity of having a twenty year old woman playing a sixteen year old girl. She’d fallen in love with his laugh and his wit ages before she succumbed to those soulful brown eyes.

When the shoot finally wrapped, he’d gone back to duty with her private phone number tucked in his pocket and that was that.

Cass popped her neck and made a show of glancing around so she could look at Mac without him realizing. He had on sunglasses, same as her, but if the angle of his gaze was any indication, he was staring with laser focus on her ass. Still.

He had been for miles already.

She rolled her eyes and went back to following I-95 northbound. It would be faster to go cross country, but that meant splashing through swamps and she wasn’t about getting soaked today. It was already cold enough to see her breath. Add wet socks to that and you were well on your way to losing a toe.

The last two nights shouldn’t have happened. She hadn’t  _ meant _ for it to happen. At all. That first night, she'd only meant to drop off his food, tell him about the bonus he’d be getting (since caps were his favorite thing in the world, apparently) and leave. The second… fuck.

There was no excuse for it. She’d just let herself get carried away. Again. She knew it was wrong and she did it anyway. Might as well be the new mantra for her life.

Mac was sweet and adorable with his blushes and little boy smiles. The juxtaposition of it with him also being some big, scary mercenary was just doing really bad things to her libido was all.

It was just like that time when, years after they were married and long after she’d gotten used to thinking of her sweet Benji as an intellectual, measured kind of person, he'd unexpectedly gone all Grognak on some idiot who’d pinched her ass in a bar. She’d been horrified of the scene he’d caused right up until lust had overtaken her.  They’d barely made it back to the car before she had his slacks off.

Apparently that was just her  _ thing. _ Men who were complex and sometimes even contradictory. Who knew, right?

Anyway, was it really her fault Mac was so stupidly cute? Was it? He had shoulders made for clinging to, definition in his arms that made her want to bite something and  _ Jesus, _ that cock he was packing. Gorgeous, thick, heavy, perfect. Mouthwateringly perfect, even.

Boy better be on his knees thanking God every night for professional-grade equipment like that. That’s all she knew.

Their impromptu, sexy mini vacay had been fun, sure. In its way. He’d certainly had a good time and so had she, but it really shouldn’t happen again. What had happened in the cabin would just have to stay in the cabin.

Especially since she was still dealing with Deacon and his jealousy towards Hancock, and Hancock’s misplaced aspirations to white knight her back to who she used to be. She didn’t need to add to all that. She just didn’t.

And Mac was a nice kid. A  _ sweet _ kid. She didn’t want to tarnish that with her… perversion? Sinfulness? Wicked ways?

All of the above.

No, he was a sweetie and he deserved to meet another sweetie and raise a million babies and be happy, dammit, and she was going to try to make that happen.

Whatever was swimming around in his head would stop eventually. She just had to make sure she didn’t feed it anymore was all. Kept things professional and cool between them. Friends, yes, but not  _ those _ kinda friends.

“Hey, Cass?”

She almost jumped but didn’t, and congratulated herself on her excellent self-control. “Yeah?”

“If we keep going this way, we’re going to hit the Interchange.”

“Okay… is that --”

“That’s where Barnes and Winlock are.”

That had her stopping. She turned, a thoughtful look on her face. “Those mean boys who were bothering you in the Third Rail?”

“Yup.”

Hardened mercs turned raiders and stone cold murderers, but sure…  _ boys. _ Everybody was a boy, apparently, except for Hancock, he guessed. He wanted to be grumpy about it, but that smile. Goddamn. The smile she was shooting his way was equal parts wickedness and angry mama yao guai and he felt himself melt a little inside.

“Well… isn’t that convenient? We should pop in and see how they’re doing. Maybe have a little  _ talk _ about what happens to naughty boys in my Commonwealth.”

Shit. He was glad she didn’t wait for an answer and went back to walking, a little more purpose in every step. Gave him time to convince his sudden hard-on to simmer the fuck down.

He wanted her to see him as a man, sure, but he also kinda wanted to be her good boy, too? A  _ real _ good boy who earned more treats and privileges.  Specifically, those top tier, dreamed of, gold fucking star, below the waist privileges.

Mac had been working hard at showing her how good he could be all morning. Brought her fresh coffee, cleaned all the equipment without being asked...hell, he’d even offered to carry her again. Uphill this time.

She was still obviously trying to keep her distance though. His plan wasn’t going so hot. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn the last two nights. Was it when he saved her from the radscorpion? Or when he’d been so agreeable about piggybacking her all over creation? Being handy around the settlement? Or something else?

His biggest fear was that it was just some sort of passing whim of hers and was already over. He hadn’t lied to her earlier about not looking for a relationship right now. He didn’t want or need anything long term. It’s just the road was a lot less lonely when you had somebody fun and cuddly and sexy to share it with.

Cass tuned her radio to Preston’s personal frequency and clicked it on. “Hey, Scout? You out there?”

A few seconds later there was a crackle of static, “Hey! General! Good to hear from you, ma’am!”

“You, too.”

“Anything wrong?”

“No, I was just wondering if there were any of our boyos around the I-95 corridor today?”

“Hang on, let me check.”

“Okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mac, who seemed to be deep in thought, contemplating the meaning of life or something. “Just coordinating with Preston. You don’t mind having a few extra playmates at this party, do you, sweetheart?”

“Huh? Oh… uh, no. No, that sounds fine.”

She grinned, “Oh, good. Sharing  _ is _ caring. The more the merrier, that's what I always say.”

He finally stopped looking so damn serious and chuckled, “Yeah.”

“General? We’ve got three patrols in the area and two provisioners as well.”

“Can you ask the patrols to meet me at the Mass Pike Interchange? I’m paying a call on some brats there.”

Preston laughed, “Yes, ma’am. ETA?”   


“Oh, I dunno… three-ish? Of course, that _is_ a little late for brunch, but we'll be early for tea and that's always nice.”

“That’ll work! I’ll get the word out!”

“Thanks, Scout. You’re still my favorite by the way. I’ll see you, honey.”

“Take care!”

Cass turned her radio off, feeling oddly awkward. Her and Mac hadn’t really talked much this morning. That conversation was the closest they’d come to being normal around each other again. She didn’t want to mess that up. It certainly wasn’t his fault she could barely stand to look at him without wanting to have a little nibble of --

“Hey, are you hungry?”

She did jump this time. Had she said that out loud? Oh, God. Oh,  _ no. _

A brave look back at his perfectly normal, neutral expression let her know that no, she had not. Thank you, Jesus.

“Sure, I could eat. Probably should if we’re going to get into a scuffle.”

“You know any place around here?”

“Uh…” A quick check of her map had her grinning. What a perfect distraction. “Yes. Yes, I do.” Cass immediately turned right and made a beeline for WRVR Broadcast Station, the home of the famous Charles River Trio.

Took barely twenty minutes to make it there. She led him inside and dropped her gear, digging out an old lunch pail before leaving everything else by the front door. He did the same and continued to follow her through to the control booth where they could see three people sitting on stools in the studio, reading scripts into microphones.

An older lady in glasses was shaking her head at the scowling man in the middle. “No, no, you’re saying that line  _ wrong. _ The emphasis is on the verb, not the subject!”

Cass rolled her eyes and tapped on the glass, waving when they looked over. They waved back and went back to their reading.

Mac watched them for a minute. It seemed like they were getting more bickering done than anything else and he sighed wistfully. “I miss the Capital Wasteland's radio. Three Dog was a hell of a DJ.”

“Three Dog?”

“Yeah, at GNR. Fights the good fight.” He shadow boxed a little just to see her laugh before plopping down next to her on the couch.

“That’s Anne, Rex and George. They put on radio plays and the like. Never any music. Most people don’t care for them, but they aren’t that bad.”

“Hmm.” He accepted the sandwich she handed him and they ate while watching the actors argue back and forth.

They were drinking their Nukas when she spoke again, “We’ve got plenty of time, so if you wanted to take a break here, that’s fine. We could stay maybe twenty, thirty minutes.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.” Mac relaxed against the couch. Or tried to, anyway.

It was kind of difficult with her looking at him so hard.

“Boss?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh! Oh, nothing. Nothing.” She moved around a bit, tucking her legs up underneath her. Oddly rattled for her. She cleared her throat a bit and pursed her lips in a comically thoughtful sort of way. “I just thought… maybe… uh... goodness, I really don't know how to put it...”

Excitement zinged through him but he kept his eyes on his boots, trying to play it cool. Did she really wanna… no, surely not with an audience like this. Maybe? She  _ was _ with Hancock. Who knew what kinda kinky shit they got up to? “Yeah?”

“You know, maybe you’d like to um…”

He finally let his eyes dart to her face. Her cute, bashful, pink face. Holy hell, it was really happening. Again. “Yeah. No, yeah, sure. I mean, if you --”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” She smiled brightly at him. “Don’t mind at all. Go right ahead.”

“Oh. Okay.” So she really  _ didn’t _ care if they had an audience. What was that called? He’d had a magazine once, one he’d kept carefully hidden away from Lucy’s virtuous eyes, that talked about shit like this. Voyeurism? No. That’s if you liked watching. Exhibitionism! That was it.

Well. He’d never really thought about performing live, so to speak, but when in Rome...

She was just sitting there, anxiously tapping her fingers along her Nuka. Staring straight ahead into the sound booth like it held the secrets of the universe. Completely different than usual when she was so confident and in control that he didn't dare disobey her. Nervously waiting for him to make the first move this time. Letting him have the moment.

Amazing.

He was easily the luckiest asshole in the wastes today. Yessir. Mac plucked the bottle from between her hands and set it with his on a nearby table.

Cass started a bit, “Mac?”

“Hmm?” He moved fluidly, gently pushing her over until she was laying down and he was hovering over her body. His hips neatly fit between her thighs and he kept the bulk of his weight off her with his arm while he ground against her nice and slow. Her neck was exposed, graceful collarbones drawing his eye further down. Mac leaned down and brushed along one with his lips before nibbling his way up her throat.

He could already feel that same heat from the night before radiating from her core and made pleased sounds deep in his chest at the way her hands came up to fist in his duster.

“Mac?

“M’hmm?” God, she was delicious. He could smell the soap she must have used this morning when she'd hurried from the cabin to 'powder her nose'. The sweet, clean taste of her skin made a shiver run up his spine.

“What  _ the fuck _ are you doing?”

He abruptly halted all exploration of her neck and moved so he could actually look at her face. There was a staggering amount of emotions there, but he couldn’t find even a hint of lust in any of it. Shit.

“I… I thought you wanted to um…”

“No. No, I do not.”

It was the mean mommy voice from the night before. When she’d been angry with him for kissing her without permission.

“Oh.”

“Get off me, please.”

“Yeah. Yeah… I mean, yes, ma’am.” He scrambled to get up, slipped a bit and ended up squeezing the shit out of her breast.  _ “Oh!  _ I-I didn’t --”

“Just get off me.  _ Now.” _

Mac all but fell off the couch altogether and kept going until he came to the other side of the room. He turned around and realized he’d put himself in a corner. His eyes were back to being glued to his boots. He didn’t dare look at her. Her disgruntled muttering was bad enough without having to actually see how pissed she was.

Cass, grumbling and aggravated beyond all reason, got up and smoothed her hair back down before searching through the odds and ends the Trio had collected over a lifetime of performing. She eventually found what she was looking for, marched over to Mac, whipped his hat off and slapped a traffic cone on his head.

“There. Dunce cap, cone of shame, whatever you want to call it. You’re wearing it until we leave.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you stay your ass in that corner, mister. I mean it.”

Mac nodded and kept his eyes down. “Yes, ma’am.”

“For fuck’s sake.” She shoved his hat into his hands, stomped back to the couch and sat, glaring at him from her seat. “You give somebody an inch, huh?”

“I’m s--”

_ “No talking in time out!” _ Cass closed her eyes and groaned, rubbing her temples. Yeah. Last night shouldn’t have happened. Or the one before that. She may have completely ruined what was shaping up to be a perfectly lovely --

“Wow. Your new guy’s pretty frisky, huh?”

There was an entirely unnecessary amount of snickering coming from the sound booth now. Great. This was probably going to end up in one of their silly little stories and then she’d never live it down.

She sighed, “Yes, thank you, Anne.”

“I always thought you liked frisky.”

_ “Thank you, Anne.” _

“Obedient though. I bet that’s a relief… different, anyway.”

Cass opened her eyes and glared at the seamstress turned actress. “You were wrong earlier. The emphasis is  _ absolutely _ on the subject in that line.”

Anne’s gleeful smirk immediately turned into a scowl as the two men with her started arguing all over again. She gave Cass the finger and Cass returned the gesture in kind.

“Idiots. Everybody in the whole goddamn…” She huffed and set a timer on her Pipboy before laying back on the couch and covering her eyes with her arm. “I am just taking a nap. This should not be misconstrued in any way as an invitation to feel me up or otherwise molest me while I sleep.”

No response from Mac. Not so much as a peep. Which was exactly as it should be.

Of course, there was no sleeping now. She already knew it. She just didn’t want to have to stare at him the whole time he stood in the corner. He already looked so fucking pitiful it was taking everything in her to stop herself from giving him a cuddle and telling him to forget the whole thing.

There were goosebumps on her neck where his mouth had been and she was super grateful to her past self for putting a bra on this morning because she was pretty sure her nipples could cut through titanium right now. Heat pooled between her legs and she tried hard to focus on the least sexy things she could think of.

The way Dogmeat smelled in the rain. The buckets of icy slime they’d cleared from the Castle when they’d originally taken it. That time she’d caught a half-naked Solomon sneaking out of Ann Codman’s one early Saturday morning in Diamond City.

She’d meant for him to go handle his  _ own _ business. Not try handling  _ hers. _ Goddamn. Take a hint, kiddo. Guess she’d have to suck it up and use a more direct approach next time.

Mac, after hearing nothing from her for a few minutes, cautiously tilted his head up. Taking just a tiny peek before resuming his careful contemplation of the patterned linoleum floor. She was as she’d said she would be, laying down, no doubt trying to calm herself after he’d…

God, what the fuck  _ had _ he been thinking? Whatever she’d wanted him to do, it certainly wasn’t _that._ His hard-earned goodwill from a morning of respectful compliance was obviously destroyed. Gone, just like that. She was probably going to drop him off at Goodneighbor and never look back, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her at this point.

She shifted and his focus snapped back to her. Deep, easy breaths but they looked forced. Red circles in her cheeks from being angry with him. He felt like absolute shit until another little movement had him suddenly fighting back a grin.

Her thighs were restless. Pressing together and then clenching tightly, tiny shivers you could barely notice. Like she was trying to keep herself from being aroused.

What was that line from that play? The one they’d tried in Lamplight after the disaster that was ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’? ‘Hamlet’, maybe?

_ The lady doth protest too much, methinks. _

Maybe he still had a shot after all.

The rest of their walk to the interchange was frosty, at best. Cass had unceremoniously whapped the cone off his head, which was apparently the signal that he was allowed to move, and he’d followed her without saying a word. Kept his head down until they were out the door, then assumed his regular spot as her guard and kept a sharp eye out for anything that might want to mess with them.

Even if she was pissed at him, he still had a job to do. Not only that, but his chances for fixing this were bound to fall even lower if she were injured or worse.

Five hundred yards out from the Gunner base, a group of Minutemen waved them down. The highest ranking soldier, a guy calling himself Specialist Rankin, had not only saluted Cass, but wrapped her in a warm bear hug, grinning like some kind of idiot.

Mac immediately hated the guy.

“Been a while, little Mama.”

“I know, I know. I try to at least check in at the Castle every once in a while, but it’s hard to catch you since you’re always on patrol.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

She grinned, “Oh, come on. Like I’d willingly miss a chance to love up on you. Don’t be silly.”

“Who’s the new kid?”

“Oh.” Cass barely waved a hand his way. “This is MacCready. Picked him up in Goodneighbor. He’s got intel on the Gunners.”

“Another intel guy, huh? You sure have a type.”

She scowled, even as her cheeks turned pink. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh. So how is the D-man lately? I haven’t seen him since I defected… that I know of, I mean.”

A wry smirk crossed her face and reminded him of that morning they’d left Goodneighbor. “Oh, you know. He’s around. Turns up like a bad penny every once in a while, then scampers back to who knows where.” She shrugged, “Trying to keep track of him is a fool’s errand.”

“Really?” Rankin’s eyebrow lifted. “I always kinda thought you two would end up --”

“Well, we didn't.”

“Hmm. That’s too bad. I’ve known the guy for years. Never seen him as happy as he was running with you. Glory even carved ‘Deacon and Charmer’ on a pew in the church just to bug him about it.” She just shrugged at him and he grinned, “Then again,  _ fuck that asshole. _ This means I’ve finally got a shot, right?”

“Well, I am technically your commanding officer, honey. So no.” She finally seemed to notice Mac was fuming behind her and turned to introduce them properly. “Mac, this is Terry Rankin. He used to be with the Railroad, but now he works for me.”

Terry laughed, “Less explosions around her… _usually.”_

Her eyes twinkled a little, “Well, certainly not today, but yes, usually.”

Mac nodded at him, “Hey.”

“Man of few words. I like him already.”

“Oh, he’s just shy.” She actually gave him a half smile and he found himself smiling back somehow. “Passed all three tests like it was nothing in under two weeks.”

“No shit! That’s impressive!”

“Tests? What tests?”

She ignored his question, “Anyway! Here it is. They’re camped up on the overpass like a bunch of scaredy-cats. I’ll call in the booms and we’ll have the patrols each take a strategic spot. Fish in a barrel. Strategy fifteen: Entice the tiger to leave its mountain lair.”

“Nice. The guys are pumped. Let's do it!”

“Pay is the usual bonus plus whatever booty you guys can carry.”

“Oh, booty! Y’arr! Oh, wait, your hat’s in your pack, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

He squinted at her one eyed, “Cause ye can’t very well be a pirate without yer hat.”

She snorted, “Goofy. Tell the others then get in position. Two clicks when everybody’s ready.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

“General.”

“Aye, aye, General!”

They watched them trot off and Cass started fiddling with her Pipboy, still chuckling to herself, when Mac cleared his throat. She didn’t bother looking at him.

“Yes, Mac? What is it?”

“Where do you want me?”

She seemed surprised at the question and shrugged. “Right where you’re at is fine.”

“But I thought --”

“You’re my intel guy. I’m not risking you.”

That made no sense. She’d risked him all over the Commonwealth already. “I’ve helped on other attacks.”

“That’s when there was just the two of us. Now we have fifteen men who know how I operate and understand how we fight.” Her eyes finally met his and were surprisingly soft given her no nonsense tone. “You’d just get in the way.”

Well, that wasn’t insulting at all. “I don’t… I’m a  _ sniper, _ for Atom's sake! I’m never in the way.”

“I said no.” She took her pack off long enough to pull an old leather tricorn hat from it and slap it on her head.

“But Winlock and Barnes are --”

“Yeah! They are!” There was a muscle twitching in her jaw as she glared up at him. “Which means you would just pull focus and jeopardize the mission, so you  _ stay put. _ Those are my orders and I pay you to follow orders, so you’re damn well gonna.”

“You don’t understand! I gotta --”

“No! You  _ don’t  _ gotta!”

“Yeah, I do!” He was almost shouting at her now and a childish part of him wanted to throw something but he only had his rifle in his hands and he wasn’t about to throw it. No matter how aggravated she made him.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Robert Joseph MacCready!” The gesturing was back. Hands flailing as she stomped and yelled like it would somehow help her argument.

“I have to do this! These jerks kept me stuck in Goodneighbor for three freaking months!  _ Three months! _ Do you know how much time that is to a -- I-I mean, I deserve my revenge and you’ve got no right to keep me from it.”

“Some things are more important than silly revenge. Your  _ life _ is more important!”

“My life isn’t worth shit!”   


“Of course it is!”

“No, it isn’t!”

“It is to your son!”

Mac felt all the air rush out of his lungs and stared at her with wide, shocked eyes. “What?”

She finally went still, hands on her hips but a defeated slump to her shoulders. “I know about your kid. I have since the beginning. I know he’s sick. I know you’re up here looking for help.” The disappointment on her face was brutal. “Why haven’t you asked me to help you yet?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Cass sighed, “Look, I know when you’re young, you think you can do anything --”

“That’s not it.”

“-- but sometimes you just  _ can’t. _ Sometimes you  _ need _ help.”

“I know!”

“So swallow your pride and  _ ask _ already.” She watched him struggle with himself and the disappointment grew until a frustrated sigh left her. “Fine. Never mind.”

“Cass, it’s just --”

“The Minutemen will get rid of the Gunners and you can… I dunno, restock in Goodneighbor and go on your way, I guess. Just give me the IOU's and I’ll pull your caps from the treasury there.”

He felt like his heart had fallen into his stomach. “Is… is that really what you want me to do?”

Her eyes were as sad as he’d ever seen them and she stared at the ground. “I just want --” Two chirps from her Pipboy and she shook her head. “It’s time.” She held up the smoke flair that would signal any local artillery to begin the bombardment. “Do you want to throw it or should I?”

What was the right answer here? Mac slowly reached out and took it, watching for a clue on her face but she refused to meet his eyes. Stoic. Absolutely expressionless.

“I’ll do it.”

The second he had it, she turned away, focused on watching the interchange. He started walking, keeping his head down and staying in whatever shadows he could find. He thought of her offer to help save his son and his hand tightened around the flare.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want the help. He really did. It was just the idea of her being down in that awful place. Ferals swarming over her… he just couldn’t. It was bad enough when it was just him. If he had to try and keep her safe, too, they’d both die.

How had she found out about Duncan? No one save Daisy knew and she’d sworn she’d keep it a secret. How many other people knew? Did this mean his son was in danger? Mac had a ton of enemies. Even most people back home didn’t know he had a kid. They knew  _ Lucy _ had had a kid, but as far as most people were concerned, he'd just been her guard, not her husband. It kept his family a little safer from all the assholes he’d fucked over during his short stint working for Talon Company. It had sucked, sure. He’d wanted the whole damn world to know she was his wife, but his pride wasn’t worth the risk.

He finally got close enough that even if he missed, it would land smack in the middle of their main camp area and still fuck up their day. Mac uncapped the flare and threw it as hard as he could. It actually made it up to the lowest layer of the interchange, blue smoke collecting and then billowing out over the top road.

Angry shouts and cursing almost immediately followed. He swore he could hear Barnes in there and  _ fuck, _ he really wanted that kill.

But Cass was already so frustrated and unhappy with him. And what did it really matter who killed those assholes, so long as it got done? Fuck ‘em.

He ignored the first few opening pops of gunfire and jogged back to where he’d left her. She was sitting with her back against a rock, staring up at the sky with a look so blank he thought someone had nailed her with a syringer dart at first.

“Cass?” He tried waving, watching her eyes and nope. Nothing there. She may as well have been dead. Mac looked up at where she was watching but it was just clouds. Just a few, wispy, ordinary clouds. He stepped in front of her and watched carefully as his shadow fell over her face. Her pupils reacted, even if nothing else did, and he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. “Hey, Cass?” Still nothing. Mac crouched down and snapped his fingers twice in front of her face. “Boss?”   


She finally blinked and focused on him, “Mac?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Is the fight over?”

What the fuck? “No, it’s barely started. Artillery hasn’t even --” He paused as a whistling sound filled the air, followed by a huge explosion that rattled his teeth. “Okay, well,  _ now _ it’s started.”

“Oh. I figured you’ve have gone charging in.”

“Nah. I was gonna, but my boss-lady threw a temper tantrum and told me not to.”

She shook her head, “You shouldn’t listen to me. No one should, really. I’m an idiot.”

“You aren’t an idiot.”

“No, I really am.” She stood as he backed up but still didn’t look at him. “I have to go to Goodneighbor.”

“To see Doctor Amari?”

“Among other things.”

Maybe she really was sick. He’d heard rumors that the Institute had used teleportation like out of some kinda movie and that she’d actually done it. Got her molecules all disintegrated into nothing and rearranged. Had that messed with her brain somehow? 

“Okay, then let’s get you to Goodneighbor.”

“You could go on to the Castle. Preston’s there, he’ll pay you.” She put her pack back on and started walking east, either completely oblivious to the fire raining down from the heavens around them or just too used to it to care anymore.

“No, I’m --”

“Or Diamond City. I have a safe there. Codsworth knows the combination. He'll ask for the password. It's --”

“Wait! Stop.” Mac grabbed her hand and was kinda surprised when she actually stopped walking. “What was that? What happened back there? It was like you weren't even on this planet. What’s wrong with you?”

She jerked her hand away and went back to walking, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with me.”

He hurried along beside her until he cut in front of her, walking backward when she called his bluff and just kept going. “Cass, come on.”

Her eyes looked right through him. “Thank you for your services, Mister MacCready. I've enjoyed working with you. You may cash in your IOU's at any of the settlements we’ve discussed. Goodbye.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!” He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stop. “What is happening right now? Are you seriously  _ firing _ me!?”

“If that’s what you wish to call it, yes.”

“Is this because of Duncan?”

“No.”

“Because I didn’t ask you for help?”

“No.”

“Cause we had a fight?”

“No.”

“Then  _ why?” _

“Your services are no longer required.”

He felt like somebody had sucker punched him. His hands slipped from her shoulders to hang uselessly at his sides and he watched her walk around him and continue on. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t at all like the woman he’d been following for weeks. She wasn’t even moving the same as she usually did. Cass usually bounced along in a carefree, happy kind of way. This person…  _ plodded. _ One foot begrudgingly set in front of the other, almost falling into every step.

Something was up. Something was  _ wrong.  _ Really wrong.

He eventually decided to keep following her. Just in case. Plus, he was headed back to Goodneighbor anyway. If Hancock hadn’t actually been the asshole hurting her, then he probably wasn’t such a terrible person after all. He could probably do something to make her better, right? Mac could shadow her there and make sure she got help for whatever was happening to her.

And he’d stick close after. Who knows, she might change her mind about not wanting him around anymore. Maybe she’d come to her senses and they could make up and things would go back to normal.

Or that better-than-normal he was still hoping for way down deep.

Crazier things had happened.


	6. Cold Reading

It was late by the time they reached Goodneighbor. Past midnight. Mac had stayed on her tail the entire time. Never close enough to be accused of it, but close enough for comfort. He watched her go in through the gate and followed shortly after. She’d already disappeared but he figured she was in the State House already, or maybe she’d gone back to her little apartment.

Daisy waved at him and he trotted over. Might as well sell some shit while he was here.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey.”

“Almost lost your boss, didn’t you? You usually keep a little closer than that.”

He should’ve known she’d have noticed. “Yeah, well… she’s not exactly my boss anymore.”

“Oh, no. What’d you do this time? And it better not have been anything  _ bad _ or Hancock’s gonna fuck you sideways for messing with his Sunshine.”

Sunshine. That was a cute name for her. It fit. “Nah, I… honestly, I dunno what I did, Dais. I really don’t. I thought we were getting along great, actually.” He shrugged.

“Hmm.” She frowned thoughtfully. “You’ve only been with her a couple weeks, right?”

“Right.”

“Did she go blank on you? Freak you out?”

He blinked, “You know about that?”

“Sure. She does it all the time. Has since February.”

“What happened in February?”

“She blew up the Institute.”

“Oh… right.” He took off his hat and scratched his head. “They were the bad guys though, right?”

“Yup.”

“Then it shouldn’t be messing her up this bad, should it? I mean, I know she’s kinda soft-hearted and too nice for her own good sometimes and all, but that was almost a year ago.”

“Ah.” Her eyes got sad and soft. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“She must've never said anything.” She stared off into space, muttering to herself, “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. Of course she wouldn’t. Probably felt nice to be around somebody who didn’t know.”

_ “Know what?” _

Daisy sighed, “Well… I mean, it ain’t exactly a secret, so I guess I can tell you. Just don’t ever mention it to her that it was me, alright?”

Oh, sure, like Cass was ever going to talk to him again at this point. “Sure.”

“Okay… what do you know about her kid?”

“Just what was in the papers. She had a baby, the Institute kidnapped him and shot her husband. That’s all. She only ever mentioned him once to me. Said his name was Shaun and that she lost him.”

She shook her head, “That poor girl. Well, you’ve got the bones of it right. She came up outta that vault ready to fight the world to get her baby back. You should've seen her. Feisty. Heart on her sleeve. Willing to do whatever it took. Actually made it in after only four months.  _ Four months. _ I dunno if you understand how insane that is. The Minutemen and the Railroad both had been trying to get in there for years.  _ Decades.  _ Then Cass, who knew nothing about anything in this world, hits the scene, rolls her sleeves up and bam.” She snapped her fingers, “Like it was nothing.”

That definitely sounded like the woman he knew. “So what happened?”

“Well… turned out, the kid she thought she was chasing wasn’t exactly a kid anymore. He was an old man. Over sixty  _ and _ already terminal. Cancer of some kind.”

Shit. Here he was worried over missing his son for a few months. To lose out on sixty years… “Damn.”

“Yeah, and it gets worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

“Well, that whole time, she’d been gunning for the Institute, right? Ready to get in there and tear it apart brick by brick with her bare hands, as any good mother would. But then she gets there and finally confronts their leader and it’s  _ him.  _ Shaun was the leader. Her own kid.”

_ “What?” _

“Yeah. He’d been the one to finally release her from the vault, he’d been the one who planted that bastard Kellogg in Diamond City so she could track him down. Fucking breadcrumbs, you know? It was all him. Told her it was some big experiment to see if she’d actually make it or if the wasteland would get to her first.”

“Holy crap.”

“Now, you’ve only ever known her after the fact, but before all this went down, before the  _ war, _ I mean, Cass wasn’t  _ just _ Cass. She was Missus Cassandra Kelly-Jones. She’d been a  _ somebody _ before the war. A proper movie starlet and then a big hotshot lawyer who was pretty famous around these parts for defending the little guy. They called her America’s sweetheart, and unlike a lot of actresses who’d held the title before, she actually went out there and earned it.” She smiled wistfully, “I still remember when she first stepped through the gate. Thought I'd finally lost my marbles seeing that face again after so many years. So soft she could have been carved out of cream cheese. Thank God Valentine was with her or Finn might have gotten to her before Hancock got to him.” She waved her hand dismissively, “Anyway, like I was sayin’, she was a sweetheart. She  _ is _ a sweetheart. But going through all that, meeting her son and realizing she’d have to be the one to put him down… well, it just broke something in her.”

“Yeah.”

“She came here after she got back from that first trip, you know. Walked straight into Hancock’s arms. Spent the better part of a whole day doing God only knows what with him. Then her friend from the Railroad came to get her. I dunno what happened there but I know it was  _ bad. _ They  _ all _ looked like they’d had their hearts ripped out by the time they left.” She sighed, “Then the Minutemen helped her blow up the damn place with her kid still in it. There was a big party here and she came and all, but… that was the first time she just disappeared. She’s got a mess of friends, you know? And they weren’t about to let her run away and off herself, so she just went somewhere inside instead. Somewhere  _ deep. _ Not even Amari could snap her out of that first one. Lasted a while. Almost a week, maybe? I thought Hancock was going to lose his mind. Deacon called in every favor he had to bring in every doctor he knew from across the wastes. Even a few Institute assholes who’d defected at the last second showed up. Nobody could figure out how to fix her. Then, just as sudden as she was gone, she was back. Acted like nothing was wrong and we all played along but…” Daisy trailed off and stared at her countertop.

“But?”

“It’s getting worse. I mean, at first she was doing it everyday. Just little moments here and there. You could almost brush it off as her just spacing out, but it was different. She’s not withdrawing quite as often anymore but it hits her harder now. It’s like watching somebody die of rad poisoning real, real slow. She’s dying from the inside out. I swear every time she comes through the gate, I’m shocked she’s made it another day.”

“Nobody’s figured out a way to help her yet? Not even all those doctors and whatever?”

She shook her head, “Nope. Of course, Hancock’s been trying to help her the only way he knows how. Chems and sex. All the booze she can drink. She never sticks around long enough for him to really talk to her like he wants to. As for Deacon… fuck, I dunno what he does to her. Or for her. I just know he’s trying too, but she’s lost, kid. She’s  _ been _ lost. There are days when I wonder why John doesn’t just overdose her on something nice and gentle. Just let her go. Let her be free from it all.”

“Daisy!”

She shrugged, “I’m not saying he  _ would. _ To be honest, I don’t think he actually  _ could _ even if she asked him for it. Might be the only thing he’s not willing to do for her. He loves her, you see, and it’s killing him, too. I just hate seeing them suffer. I’ve tried talking to her a few times myself. Got a lot of regrets and pain from the old days, so I can relate but I guess I was lucky in the long run. I had my anger to cling to, but she ain’t like that. I don’t think she’s ever been the type to truly hate something or hold a grudge. So what’s she got left now? Nothin’. She just keeps trying to help people because that’s what the person she used to be woulda done. Someday it's gonna finally get her killed. That’s just what happens to heroes in real life, Mac. That’s why they always rode off into the sunset in the movies.”

“Damn.” It was hard to imagine someone as naturally cheerful and carefree as Cass having to endure all that. Had to be a heck of a lot harder to live through it. “I had no idea.”

She smiled at him, “That’s probably why she took such a shine to you, kiddo. I saw her when the two of you left. More pep in her step than I’d seen in ages.”

“Yeah.” And then he’d ruined it. He’d pushed it. Tried to force her to tell him what was going on. Actually let the words ‘what’s wrong with you’ come out of his mouth. He winced internally. If Daisy had her facts straight, as she generally tended to,  _ everything _ was wrong with Cass.

He just hoped Hancock could help her this time.

The ghoul in question was, at that very moment, doing his absolute very best to help. Doing the hardest thing he’d ever done in his whole fucking life. Fighting every instinct he had, his whole being screaming at him to give in.

Cass stood just inside the door of his office, big tears rolling down her face as she stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

He had to do it. This was for her own good. Almost certainly for his as well. They just couldn’t keep doing this waltz. Going round and round in circles with no end in sight. He couldn’t let her keep hurting herself like this, using him as a weapon to torture herself with.

It didn’t mean he could look at her while it happened though. His eyes drifted instead to a spot on the wall behind her head. The darkness of his sclera and the dim light should guarantee she’d never notice.

“Don’t get me wrong, Sunshine. It’s been fun. Sometimes. But I just can’t keep up with you anymore. You’re asking too much. Even from me.”

“John, please. I need --”

“You dunno what you need.” It came out harsher than intended and he winced as the brave tears dissolved into sobbing. “Look, you know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt. I just… I can’t. I just  _ can’t, _ sweetheart. If you want somebody to get you high and fuck you up, there’s a million assholes out there who’ll happily oblige. Just not this asshole. Not anymore. It’s… I let it go on longer than it should cause I was hoping you’d come to your senses, but clearly what I can give you ain’t gonna pull you out of whatever this is.”

“B-but I don’t trust any of them. I trust  _ you.” _

Ah, there it was. The knife right through his heart. She should never have trusted him. If he’d been a man worthy of it, he’d have just read her a bedtime story and tucked her in that first night. Instead he’d done what he’d always done. Let his dick do all the thinking when a pretty girl stood in front of him and said she needed him.

“I can’t trust myself, love. Not with you. I’m sorry.” He glanced at her and immediately wished he hadn’t. As pitiful as she sounded, it was nothing compared to the sight of her. She even cried pretty. Must be something she’d learned early on in her career.

Hancock stood and came to stand in front of her. If he was going to do this, he should do it like a man. Face her properly. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her face for her. “Breakin’ my heart, little sister… I ain’t sayin’ we aren’t still friends. We’ll always be friends. You’ll always be welcome here in Goodneighbor. You just ain’t welcome in there.” He motioned towards his room across the way.

She started laughing and for the smallest of seconds, he had hope. He really did. Then the laughter turned and she sneered at him with the same terrible disgust he’d seen on countless other smooth faces. Fury had burned through the pain and she suddenly didn’t look like herself at all and he took a step back.

_ “You’re _ giving  _ me _ the ‘we can still be friends’ speech?  _ You?” _

“Sun --”

“Don’t use that insipid fucking nickname with me, John. I’m not like your other days-of-the-week whores. I'm pretty sure you can remember my name by now. The least you can do is use it.”

Another step back. This woman wasn’t his friend at all. She was a stranger. Dangerous. “Cass.”

“I can’t believe I’m being rejected by someone like  _ you.” _

“Stop.”

“You know what? For the first time ever, I’m actually glad Benji’s dead. I really am.”

“Cass!”

“Otherwise he’d have seen just how far I’ve actually fallen and I’m pretty sure that alone would be enough to kill him twice over.”

_ “Stop it!” _

_ “Make me!” _

Hancock didn’t even realize he’d raised his hand until the triumph crossed her face and he stopped just short of striking her. He'd never hurt her in anger before and he wasn't going to let her trick him into it now. He could actually see the way she iced over as he slowly lowered his arm. His girl, his  _ friend, _ had vanished right before his eyes. Gone. Just like that.

“Get out. We’re done here.”

“Well… I’ll be sure to tell whoever’s next in line to hurry on up. Wouldn’t want you to get lonely. I know how you hate to let your bed go cold.”

“Yeah? That'd be swell. Hey, be sure to tell Deacon I said hello next time you’re under him.”

They glared at each other, united one last time in their mutual pain and anger. Cass finally broke first and flounced away. Hancock waited until he heard the door slam behind her before throwing his hat at the wall and then, when that didn’t do it for him, proceeded to trash not only his office but the entirety of the second floor.

Fahr and the Watch wisely retreated to stand guard at the entrances. They then quietly spread the word that the State House was officially closed until further notice.

Fifteen minutes earlier, Deacon had watched her come in ahead of the kid, who had slunk through the gate looking like somebody had stolen his sweet roll  _ and _ kicked his dog. Cass slipped into the State House and the kid into Daisy’s for no doubt well deserved pats on the head and cocoa.

As for him, he pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself and wandered nice and slow over to take a seat on the bench under Hancock’s balcony.

Something was up. Whole situation was screwy. She usually only came here when she naturally crossed it on her way to someplace else. This was only the second time he knew for certain that she’d fled whatever had happened for the illusion of safety in Hancock’s pocket.

Deacon had eyes on her, of course. Always did. He’d kept watch from afar as they worked their way around the Commonwealth in a nice, orderly, easy to predict kind of pattern. Stayed a couple of days at Somerville, which was fine and not at all out of the ordinary, then headed north. Destroyed the Gunner base they found and then she’d just… deviated from the norm.

Mac looked like shit on toast, too. Heartsick. He recognized it from the few times he’d accidentally caught glimpses of himself without the shades. He’d hoped the kid and his tragic backstory would be useful. Would trigger something positive in her. Maybe even be the spark that --

Cass suddenly exploded out of the State House. He heard her broken sobbing, heard the door slam behind her and was instantly up and ready to fight somebody. This wasn’t how shit went. Was everybody just going to act weird and completely out of the ordinary tonight?

Had there been a memo he missed?

He caught her at the corner and, seeing the angry tears on her face and that terrifying, blank look bleeding back into her eyes, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the alley. She didn’t even try to fight back, just let him slam her against the wall. A small huff of laughter or something close to it escaping when her head bounced off the brick.

Which all would have been fine, really, except he was pretty sure she didn’t even know it was him at this point.

“Cass?” He kept his voice low and calm. He hated when she got like this. It scared the shit out of him, truth be told, but when had he ever done that. When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Charm?” A flicker in her eyes, just the slightest tilt of her head towards him and he was already breathing thirty percent easier.

“Deacon.”

“That’s right. It’s just me. What happened?”

Her voice was hollow, “Hancock doesn’t want me anymore.”

Impossible. “What?”

“He doesn’t want to play with me.” She suddenly looked years younger, staring up at him with the sad, innocent eyes of a child in way over their head. “Why doesn’t he want to play with me?”

Shit. This might be above his pay grade. “Cassie?”

“Nobody likes to play with me.”

“I do. I’ve always liked it.”

“I just hurt people. Make them cry. I hurt everybody.”

“Hey, can you come with me? Let’s play right now, okay? We can go prank Amari and wake her up. It’ll be super funny. She’s usually been in bed a few hours by now. Irma will be so mad.”

“No.”

“Please, sweetheart.”

“I said  _ no!” _

She tried to pull away from him, like he was ever going to let that happen. Hitting him like it made a difference. Her blows felt like nothing. Those tiny little fists couldn’t kill a radroach. It made him think of when Glory had tried to teach her hand to hand combat and how hilarious that had been. How hard they’d all laughed when she'd accidentally got thrown right into Carrington’s sour face.

Glory had said if the general gig didn't pan out, she'd make a decent medicine ball. Just a godawful,  _ terrible _ joke, but they'd laughed and laughed...

His hand was around her throat without him even thinking about it. He squeezed just once and she immediately went limp. A few jarring shakes had her eyes back on his face. Almost looked like her again.

Or close enough anyway.

He pitched his voice low and rough, almost growling at her. “Stop acting like a little bitch or I’ll treat you like one.”

That did it. The confusion cleared and the slow smile that bloomed on her face was mean and vicious. Guess they’d skipped right over puppy playtime. That was hardly fair.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, now there’s an idea. You think I won’t fuck you right here in this piss-soaked alley? Think you’re too good for it? A slut like you should be grateful I don’t rub your face in it first.”

She pushed at his chest, “Let me go!”

He laughed, “You know better than that. I get mine first, then I let you go. That’s how it works.”

The very cold, and very  _ rude, _ feel of someone’s gun against his temple shattered the fantasy for both of them. He watched her eyes go wide and knew, without even looking, who it was.

Fucking kid.

“Maybe you didn’t hear her the first time, so let’s try again, asshole.  _ Let her go.” _

Deacon almost started laughing. He sounded so big and bad when he said it. Riding here to her rescue and all. What a putz. “Alright, I know everybody says this, and it’s usually a lie, especially when I say it, but this really isn’t what it looks like, kid.”

There was a quiet click. “Safety’s off, pal. Last chance.”

He sighed heavily and was just pissed enough to ignore the silent plea on Cass’s face. Deacon moved suddenly, pivoting on his right foot, his hand knocking Mac’s pistol away from them while he simultaneously cocked his left arm back for a nice, hard punch to the liver as the kid stumbled to the side.

Extra weight hanging from it made him pause mid-swing and he looked down. Cass was dangling from his arm, like a very angry little monkey. She scowled at him, hanging on for dear life.

“Like I haven’t seen you pull that move a million times.”

“What can I say? It’s a good move.” He grinned at her and relaxed, letting her hop down before he actually stuffed his hands in his pockets. Mac was looking a little confounded, and he did his best to keep the smirking to a minimum. “Well, at last we meet face to face, Boy Wonder. That was some entrance. Kudos.”

“What?” He still looked like he wanted to at least hit him and kept edging closer to Cass. “What’s going on?”

She smiled apologetically, “There’s just been a misunderstanding, honey.”

Deacon snorted but held up his hands in mock surrender when she glared at him and kept his mouth shut.

“A misunderstanding.”

“Yes, that’s right. This is… uh…”

Little late for worrying about opsec. He rolled his eyes, “I’m Deacon.” He stuck his hand out but Mac backed away from it like he was radioactive and he pulled it back. “Okay then.”

“You’re…” Kid was so transparent you could literally see his brain struggling to put the pieces together. “Are you the guy who hit her?”

“It’s not --”

“No, I wasn’t asking you.” He held up his hand in her face and stepped a hell of a lot closer to him. Right up in his personal space. “Are you?”

Kid was pretty spunky for a pipsqueak. He shrugged like slapping her around hadn’t totally made him want to die inside. “Guilty as charged.”

“You… how could you  _ do _ something like that!? Those marks on her wrist and shit! What is your damage, man?”   


Cass sucked in a breath, “You saw those.”

“Damn straight I did!”

“Mac, I told you, this has nothing to do with you.”

He frowned at her and grabbed her hand, “Cass, come on.”   


“Oh, honey...”

_ “Come on. _ He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

Deacon couldn’t help it. He was just so fucking cute. He started laughing but turned away, trying like hell to stop and completely unable to.

“Fucker’s off his nut.” Mac muttered it under his breath before turning his attention back to Cass. “Seriously, boss, come on. Let’s go.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, honey.” She gently tugged her hand free and stepped back. Deacon finally regained enough control to turn back around, an arm casually slung across her shoulders. Suddenly very serious for him. “Deacon doesn’t do anything I don’t want him to do. Everything he’s ever done, I’ve asked for.”

“You...no. No, that’s not --”

“It’s true. I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you.”

Deacon could hear the shame in her voice, sense her weakness here, like he always could. She’d liked having an admirer who didn’t know just how shallow her good girl act went these days. He pulled her a little closer, trying to impart wordless support in this uncomfortable moment. She turned, resting her head against his chest. A few hot tears seeped into his shirt and he suddenly wanted to punch the kid all over again.

“I just… didn't want you to know.”

Mac kept staring at her until she closed her eyes and hid her face against the asshole who’d disarmed him. The one he’d thought was attacking her in the alley. The guy he’d hoped to one day gut like a fish for the bruises he’d left on her.

She sounded so ashamed when she said it, but she  _ had _ wanted it. The damage he’d seen had been deliberately done and she’d  _ asked for it _ and --

“Does Hancock know about this? About what he does to you?”

Deacon answered for her, “He knows. It’s a complicated situation.”

He narrowed his eyes, trying to get a read on the guy and coming up with nothing. It was like he had eternal poker face. He hated the way he touched her. The absurd familiarity of it and the ridiculousness of her turning to a monster like that for comfort. Mac watched him rubbing her back and wanted to tear his arm off.

“Boss… Cass, come on. Just… take my hand and we can walk away from this.”

She jerked her hand up before he even had a chance at grabbing it and held onto Deacon’s shirt like it was a life preserver.

He guessed that was some kind of answer.

“Fine. I’ll see you around sometime. Sorry I… interrupted a good time or… whatever.” Mac walked away from the pair and tried to ignore the sick feeling twisting in his stomach. The Third Rail’s glowing neon sign beckoned him, the promise of enough liquor to drown himself in as good as a siren’s song.

Cass waited until she could no longer hear his boots scuffling on the cobblestones and finally peeked out.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. He’s gone.”

“That was  _ awful.” _

Deacon sighed, “Yeah.”

“I wish you hadn’t laughed.”

He at least had the decency to look sheepish. Even if it was a lie, which it probably was. “Sorry, I… I dunno, I just couldn’t help it.”

“I feel so… I…” She was shaking again. She hated when the shaking started. And she was so, so tired. “Take me home. Please. Make it all go away.”

He picked her up, carefully, like a baby. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and she closed her eyes, clinging to him as he carried her to the hidden elevator that would take her to her apartment.

If it even was her apartment anymore. Hancock had gifted it to her ages ago. It was probably going to go to whoever his next favorite was. She whimpered a little at the idea of losing yet another person, another home, but Deacon shushed her. The heavy hand in her hair a promise and a comfort. She barely even heard the ding, just felt a sudden whoosh in her stomach as they rode up.

“Home, sweet home.”

She didn’t answer him. Just stayed passive and quiet as he set her gently on the bed before lighting a nearby candle. She could probably relocate permanently to Diamond City. Codsworth would be thrilled, but she’d have to figure out a way to get rid of him for when her and Deacon had their little moments together.

Speaking of, he was kneeling in front of her. Glasses off, searching her eyes. “Still with me?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get you a bath and then we’ll go to bed, hmm?”

“Okay.”

She watched him go into the bathroom. Listened to the sound of the water. It was thoughtful of him to realize she wouldn’t have the emotional energy to play-fight back tonight. Bath time with Deacon always meant having her head held underwater until her lungs felt like they’d burst. Headaches. Water everywhere from her involuntary thrashing. 

But she’d feel clean after. Clean right down to the bone. It wouldn’t last. It never did, but those hours of feeling free from the weight that was pulling her ever downward would be glorious while they lasted.

He was back in front of her. Sunglasses on this time. Cass stared at her own reflection but that was almost as bad as looking in his eyes and she ducked her head.

“We’re going to try something new tonight. How's that sound?”

She nodded. Whatever he wanted was fine. At least she could still make somebody feel good.

“Okay.” Deacon went to a nearby dresser and dug around in the bottom drawer. He hadn’t wanted to ever do this. It had been kind of a Hail Mary, last resort kind of thing.

He  _ hated _ chems.

His hand finally found the syringe and he took a deep breath, plastering the mean little smile she’d come to expect from him during these adventures on his face so she wouldn’t suspect a thing. Swaggering over, radiating a dominance and power he absolutely didn’t feel tonight. Couldn’t. The way things were unraveling, he barely had a handle on himself, let alone her.

She hardly even twitched when he slid the needle into her arm. Just turned her head slightly and watched as he administered the chem.

Fred Allen, Goodneighbor’s premiere chem dealer, had said it would work fast, but Deacon wasn’t counting on the effects being nearly instantaneous. Cass suddenly swayed, pitching forward and he had to catch her before she fell off the bed entirely.

Her eyes were bleary and confused, “Deacon?”

“Just a little party favor, sweetness. Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

“M’kay.” A sleepy smile and she relaxed in his arms like a good little lamb.

There she went. Compliant, relaxed, floating. She’d be unable to fight back, unable to protest. Agreeable to whatever he wanted to do to her.

Honestly, he kind of wondered what kind of an asshole Fred actually was to even think up a drug like this.

Getting her undressed was the easy part. The chem rendered her almost paralyzed, but she felt everything at about a hundred times magnification. All it took was a few soft touches of his hands on her skin and she wanted him to touch her everywhere. Leaned into it, purring happily as he stripped her down.

The way she stared at him the whole time was the hard part. Eyes so dark and wide, trusting and loving. It was the way he’d always hoped she’d look at him. The look he'd been chasing for ages, but since it wasn’t really  _ her, _ it just made him feel like shit. The only silver lining here was Fred had sworn anyone on this stuff would have no memory of the night’s events, so he was free to run his mouth as he pleased for once.

“My beautiful girl.” She really was, in every possible way. He carefully cradled her face between his hands and kissed her. “I love you.”

She echoed back, “Love you.”

Did she really or was this just the chem’s influence? Sure, she’d said it that one time, months ago. He understood now that she’d really meant it then. He’d never said it back. Not when she was able to actually hear it, anyway. He just couldn’t. In the moment, he’d been a coward. Told himself it was better to not inflict that truth on her. In the months following, he was pretty sure she’d have slapped or shot him if he’d tried telling her. She wouldn't believe him anyway at this point.

Deacon swept her up and carried her into the bathroom. “Let’s run away. Just you and me. Maybe Dogmeat.”

“Okay.”

Her voice was small and quiet and yeah, he was probably going to have to pay Fred Allen a little visit and make sure this chem never found its way into public circulation. Only truly fucked up, degenerate individuals would use this on somebody. Present company included.

He sat her in the bath and kept a hand on her shoulder just to make sure she wouldn’t slip under the warm water. She was so passive now she wouldn’t even notice she was drowning until it was too late.

“We’ll find a boat. Go someplace where nobody knows us. Be whoever we want to be. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Nice.”

“Maybe the Keys. Go take over Hemingway's house. I bet it’s still full of cats. We’ll wear next to nothing and lay on the beach all day long.” She just blinked at him, slow and foggy. He sighed again. “Let’s wash your hair first.”

“Okay.”

Deacon kept quiet as he worked. Checking in with her on water temperature or scrubbing pressure was useless, he knew. She just agreed with everything and he hated that. So he hummed instead. ‘It’s Only a Paper Moon’ because nobody understood true love and heartbreak like Ella Fitzgerald.

Her eyes were almost closed by the time he pulled the plug. If he’d thought she was a wet noodle before, it was nothing compared to now. Trying to get her slippery self out of the tub proved to be surprisingly difficult and he accidentally dropped her twice. She’d have bruises from that along her arms and back, probably, but that would actually help him out a little here.

You couldn’t fake everything, after all.

If she woke up in the morning in pristine condition, she’d know he hadn’t done what he was supposed to. The way they’d always worked was he’d hurt her throughout the night, as much as she could take until they were both raw and exhausted. Then she’d wake up in the morning as close to the old Cass as she could still get. Rising with the sun like his golden girl had never pulled a runner on him at all. Loving, sweet, affectionate.

It never lasted, of course. He only ever got maybe fifteen minutes with that version of her before she’d make some excuse to leave. Literally any bullshit reason to get out of his presence, away from his soft touches and lingering kisses. Once she’d even claimed she simply  _ had _ to pick up her dry cleaning. Only two hundred and eleven years late.

She could face down deathclaws and raiders, take on the whole damn world, but she couldn’t face the truth. Not from him. She just kept running from any and all evidence that he actually loved her. Just like he’d ran from her in the beginning. Preferring to pretend that he fucked her just because he was some kind of possessive asshole who saw her as an object.

It was probably some kind of self-defense mechanism. Something to protect her heart from the idea that they could’ve actually been happy together.

They still could. He firmly believed that. Couldn’t let himself believe anything else, even if she’d long given up on him.

He finally got her dried off and set her back on the bed. She’d be fine without clothes. The apartment came with a working radiator and he’d opened the valve all the way up before he ever started the bath. It’d be like a sauna before long.

She looked like a doll tonight. That pretty blonde hair drying into waves and her eyes glassy and dark. He kept an eye on her while he stripped himself down, still a little worried she’d fall onto the floor.

He wanted, more than anything, to just slip into bed and be done with today. Tuck her up close and let her sleep. Pray that she wouldn’t be pissed at him in the morning. Usually by this time in their sessions, she was snapping and snarling at him, fighting whatever restraints he’d used on her, mocking him as he forced himself on her. He actually preferred that to this.

Deacon was careful and methodical with the placement of the old rubber-wrapped copper wiring he used to tie her wrists back. He still preferred the piano wire, but this was safer. Not as sharp. Enough pressure to guarantee a mark come morning but nowhere near as tight as he usually did. He decided against anything else. If asked, he could truthfully say the chem had knocked her on her ass so hard he hadn’t needed to physically restrain her as much as usual.

Let her imagination do the heavy lifting there.

A single push against her shoulder and she was on her back. Her legs fell open and he thought about taking her right then. Just getting it over with. But he had questions he needed answers to first.

Specifically, had she fucked MacCready or not, because  _ something _ was definitely there. Something new and heavy and unspoken. He was a little surprised at himself that he didn’t feel the hurtful, toxic jealousy over the whole idea that her relationship with Hancock had inspired in him. Even if she had given in to those earnest eyes and youthful adoration, he could hardly blame her. The kid  _ was _ pretty cute. Heck, the only actual complaint he could come up with was he hadn’t been there to watch… or participate.

Having a new puppy around wouldn’t disrupt their dynamic by much. Probably be good for her even. Someone softer than him that she could boss around a little. That’d be funny as fuck to see.

Deacon knelt on the bed next to her and ghosted a hand down her curves. One mean squeeze on her hip just to make sure a bruise would be there later. Her nipples were already hard but that was probably just an involuntary response to getting out of the bath, not an indicator of excitement or lust.

“Cass?” Her head turned toward him. Pupils blown so wide her eyes almost looked black. There were no answers for him there. She’d just mindlessly agree with whatever he said.

So instead, he set his mouth against hers. The moment his tongue brushed against her lips, they parted, and he started the game in his head. Acting out the happily ever after make-believe story he always told himself would someday be real to keep from going crazy. Kissing her like it was all they needed, pouring his whole heart into it.

Eventually, sluggishly, she responded. Kissing him back slow and clumsy, a soft moaning against his mouth.

His fingers slipped between her folds and dipped into her cunt, testing to see if she was wet before he went further. Usually, he wouldn’t care. Or, rather, he  _ would, _ but he had to  _ pretend _ like he didn’t. Tonight though, he was doing shit as close to the right way as he possibly could while he had the chance.

He rubbed careful circles around her clit until he felt her shiver and only then did he finally press into her. She was soaking already, hot as he’d ever felt her, moving her hips in a lazy sort of way as he explored. He broke free from the kiss, choosing to ignore the way her mouth stayed open like he’d never left and pulled his hand free. A cursory taste revealed nothing. Just her. Nobody else had cum in her anytime lately anyway.

Maybe the pup just had a really bad case of unrequited lust after all.

She’d be expecting her throat to be raw. He almost always face fucked her. Had to usually. She’d run that mouth of hers until he couldn’t take it anymore, saying the most brutal, fucked up shit she could think of. Her years in front of the camera and later in front of juries had blessed her with both an amazing stage presence and the emotional dexterity to make you truly believe anything she said as the gospel truth. So when she wanted to use sharp words and cutting insults, every one of them landed.  _ Hard. _

Cass might not be able to take anyone down in a physical confrontation, but emotionally? She could eviscerate a man with the vicious way she wielded her tongue like a razor.

There was no fucking way he could do that tonight. No way to possibly monitor that she was actually getting enough oxygen or that they were dancing too close to the edge.

Deacon pushed his wet fingers into her mouth. Pressing until he heard the little catch in her throat that let him know she was gagging even if her body could barely manage it while under the influence. He then spread them, deliberately scraping the sides of her pharynx and esophagus with his nails, pushing hard for a moment to make sure it would count for something come morning before withdrawing.

She barely even blinked.

A long line of thick saliva followed his hand and he wiped the spittle off her lips before kissing her again. “My good girl.”

“Good girl,” she breathed.

Almost done. He finally dragged her all the way onto the bed and knelt between her legs before pausing. Her eyes were on him, but the vacant way she stared was off putting. Enough that he nearly lost the erection he was already a little ashamed of sporting in the first place.

Deacon rolled her over and checked twice to make sure she wouldn’t smother herself in her pillow before focusing on the pretty picture she made in front of him. The delicate skin of her wrists was already an angry kind of red and, as much as he hated to admit it, she did look sweet wrapped up for him like a present. Her skin always reminded him of the smooth perfection of a clean canvas. It made him want to create art with it.

He highly doubted she’d be able to hold herself up at all here, so he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under her hips. If she hadn’t fucked the kid, then she hadn’t fucked anybody since he’d taken her in Cambridge. That would make hurting her easier now. He quickly coated the head of his cock in her juices and then shoved himself inside, as hard and deep as he could get.

Some kind of noise left her throat. A strangled kind of cry that spoke to the predator in him. Made a terrible part of him want to do this and a lot more until the sun came up. He ignored the sadist inside, set hard hands on her hip and shoulder, pulled out just a bit and then slammed forward again. It took a good five or six thrusts before he was able to bury himself fully in her hot cunt, a sudden gush of liquid heat around him as her body finally caught up to what was happening.

There. She’d definitely wake up feeling sore and used.

They both would.

His hands relaxed on her and he carefully lay over her body, keeping the bulk of his weight on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her. He’d done it before, on other nights. Deliberately used his greater mass and strength to pin her down, nearly suffocating her, but not this night. Not when she was so helpless and quiet under him.

He moved carefully. Slow and steady. His arms eventually shifted, slipping under her and holding her close. His mouth never stopped moving. Murmuring declarations of love and devotion that she’d never remember and wouldn’t have even believed he was capable of sober.

He wasn’t even sure if she could cum or not while on this shit. Certainly it seemed like every reaction, every reflex, was either delayed or just dialed all the way down. He hoped she could. He wanted her to feel good, even if she couldn’t feel anything at all.

Deacon was considering giving up on that particular pipe dream when he felt a tremor go through her, soft waves rippling along his cock. Her breath stuttered for a moment and he hugged her tighter before slipping free from her shivering body.

They did a lot whenever they were together, but he’d never actually cum inside her cunt before. He couldn’t say why. Sometimes he got close, but inevitably she’d say something smart and end up choking on it. Or, far more often, he’d unceremoniously shove his cock up her ass, laughing at the way she’d scream and cry. Get off on the pain and the way her frail body would eventually give way despite her best efforts. Say something cruel and pithy, like she wasn’t worthy of his cum or whatever.

So even though he had the perfect opportunity to here, he wouldn’t. When that finally happened, if it ever did, he wanted her to be all there for it. Wanted to hear her beg for it while he teased her with kisses and playful words.

He just wanted it to be special, was the thing. Something memorable. Something gentle and beautiful. Something that didn't hurt.

Since he didn’t have to pretend to be a total bastard tonight, he grabbed the small bottle of oil from the bedside table and prepared her properly for once. A single, careful finger breaching her hole and stretching her before he sank his cock deep and finally allowed himself to enjoy a portion of their evening.

It felt different. Smooth and deliciously accommodating in a way she normally wasn’t. Of course, he’d never done this that she hadn’t been fighting him on it. Maybe that was the difference. He watched her face for a moment, but there was nothing there. She wasn’t here at all. He may as well just be masturbating in an empty room.

His hands wrapped around her hips and he held on tight as he fucked her. Head tilted back so he didn’t have to actually see how limp she lay under him. It shouldn’t feel as good as it did. It really shouldn’t. A better man would never look at the woman he loved, incapacitated and vulnerable, and want to violate her like this.

Honestly, he’d never see what she saw in him. Ever.

There was nothing in the room but the wet sound of him ravishing her, his heavy breathing and occasional groan. The near silence actually unnerved him more than anything. He could feel his orgasm slipping away and gritted his teeth. Time for more make believe.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. So hot and eager for it tonight. You love it, don’t you? Love my cock up your ass.” When there was no reply, he squeezed her flesh hard, slamming into her to get her attention as much as he could. “Say you love it.”

“Love it.” She sounded like she was talking about drapes or something, but he’d take it.

“Yeah, you do. Fuck. Feels so fucking good. Say you want me to cum in this ass.”

“Cum in this ass.”

“Beg for it. Say ‘Please, John.’” He’d never even told her that was actually his first name, not even when she’d asked him point blank, but he wanted to hear it from her mouth. Now might be his only chance.

“Please, John.”

It shouldn’t be enough, but it was. Deacon felt himself swell, lost in the way it started in his toes and rushed forward. Just a few more forced, uncontrolled thrusts into her and then that familiar burst of explosive ecstacy. He came hard, quietly grunting with each new spurt while his body shook. Finally falling forward as his muscles started to give out, catching himself at the last moment and nibbling at her shoulder before setting his teeth into her neck hard. She’d still be expecting at least a few bruises, after all.

He released her the second she finally made an involuntary noise. A small, far off kind of murmur. Deacon set his forehead against her back, panting as he caught his breath, laughing at himself and the insanity of their existence. A few more irresistible rolls of his hips against her before the sensitivity got to be too much.

Her lips were parted and he leaned up, pressing a kiss to them. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

Oh, yeah, even if it was just the chems talking, he still liked hearing it. God, that was fucking pathetic. He chuckled at himself and shook his head. “Man, Cassie… have I got it bad for you or what?”

He was still grinning, right up until he saw it. Just above the mark he’d made on her neck. A smaller, lighter one. Barely even a shadow on her skin. Whatever good humor he’d managed to cultivate from this situation instantly died.

_ “MacCready.” _


	7. Collaborative Solutions

Deacon prowled through the halls of the Rexford, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He’d given himself twenty minutes tops for this, and he’d already wasted more than half that time having a quick chat with Daisy and looking for the little twerp down in the Rail. There was unadulterated bloodlust singing in his veins, so it had taken him a moment to calm down enough to realize Mac wasn’t even there. A few more to sweet talk some drifters into telling him he’d been last seen headed for the hotel.

Cass was still back at her apartment, trussed up like a Christmas ham so she couldn’t accidentally hurt herself while he was gone. He had what he sincerely hoped were irrational fears of her somehow choking on her tongue, too numbed by the chems to even notice. Dying quietly all alone like that beatnik singer she once told him she’d borrowed her nickname from. That anxiety was just making him even more aggravated.

It wasn’t the fact that MacCready had his mouth, and maybe other things, on her. They’d obviously never been exclusive, never even counted what they did as dating of any kind. She mockingly referred to him as her boyfriend at times, but it was always done tongue-in-cheek. If she wanted to indulge in her own little May-December romance from the other side, who was he to stop her? Shit, more time spent in the Land of Make Believe would no doubt do her some good.

No. What he was pissed about was clearly something had gone  _ wrong. _ The kid had fucked up something. Done or said something that had her in this tailspin. Caused her to show up in Goodneighbor volatile enough that even Hancock had to finally tap out. That’s what was making him want to wrap his hands around the kid’s throat and squeeze until his empty, fat head popped off like one of those stupid Vault-Tec bobbleheads.

The practiced sounds of feigned rapture were coming from Room 2. Deacon marched right up to the door and pounded on it. The sounds abruptly stopped and he waited impatiently for Mac to appear.

He wrenched the door open and if his face was any indication, the kid was pissed at having his good time interrupted. Still reeked of whiskey. Deacon took in the distinctive red lipstick smeared across his face and the way the room was pitch dark behind him and smirked.

Usually people who hired Magnolia for the evening  _ enjoyed _ looking at her. She was a performance artist, after all. Then again, total darkness probably made it a hell of a lot easier to imagine it was a different woman altogether in your arms.

“Hi.”

“The fu-- what do you want?”

He’d do the kid a solid and excuse the belligerence in his tone. This time. Deacon ignored him for the moment, leaned over just a bit and raised his voice, “Good evening, Miss Magnolia.”

“Well, hey there, sugar!”

“You’re charging this one full price, right? Don’t let him get away with screwing you double.”

Her laughter rang out from the room. That tinkling, musical sound that never failed to reel idiots in. “Oh, Deacon. You always think you’re so clever.”

Mac rolled his eyes at their banter and he chuckled at the way the kid looked like he was going to explode. Any other night, he’d have oodles of fun egging him on, but he was on borrowed time here.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Mac. I just needed a word with you real quick before morning. Care to step into the hallway for a minute?” When he hesitated, Deacon backed up, hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry. I’m not here for part two of your ass-whuppin’. Just need to ask a favor. For Cass.”

Mac immediately averted his eyes and stared at the floor at the mention of her name. “We’re not… I mean, she fired me, so…”

“Yeah, I figured.” He motioned for him to come out and then leaned casually against the wall behind him, waiting until he very reluctantly eased into the hallway. Still had a hand on the doorknob. That was smart. And at least he’d had the presence of mind to put his pants back on before answering the door. “Listen, she’s gonna come by in the morning. Gonna ask you to forgive her and whatever. You’re going to, of course… or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’m going to come back here and show you how we fuck in the big leagues, alright? Don’t _ push _ me, kid, I’ve had a hard day.”

He glared at him, “Is that all?”

“Nope. She’s going to feel awful and be really awkward, so don't laugh. Probably try to slip away from you right after, but you aren’t gonna let her. You’re going to ask her if she’s still got any jobs for you because you checked around town and nobody’s got anything going on.”

“Look, I already told a guy --”

Deacon held up his hand. “No, you aren’t listening. Stop just waiting for your turn to talk.  _ Listen _ to the words that are coming out of my mouth. You are going to go back out there with Cass. You are going to keep doing whatever it was that you were doing, and you’re going to do it without ever telling her we had this conversation.  Capiche?”

“We didn’t… I mean, I dunno what she told you but --”

“I already know you’ve got the hots for her. I think she was at least kinda starting to like you. That’s good. It’s what she needs. You’re what she needs right now.”

“How am I --”

“Daisy said she blanked on you yesterday, right? First time you saw it, yeah?”

He frowned, “Yeah, how did you --”

“You know that’s a new record for her? Two weeks. I watched over her the last time, so I know. Let her be without letting anything get to her cause she likes to pretend it doesn’t happen at all. I worried she would have another episode before you were invested, but she didn’t.  _ Two whole weeks.  _ That’s a fucking miracle, kid. In a world where miracles are in short supply. You did that. Somehow. I don’t care how, I just want you to keep doing it. We clear?”

“Isn’t Cass your, I dunno, girlfriend or something?”

“Or something.”

“And you want another guy to go after her?”

He shrugged, “Sure, if that’s what you were doing before, keep it up.”

Mac rubbed the back of his neck and narrowed his eyes at him thoughtfully. “What happens if I steal her away?”

He rolled his eyes at the very idea. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Really? You’re a little overconfident, aren’t you, old man?”

Okay. Alright. Yeah, he could see why she liked him. Sassy little mouth on him, cute butt, passionate. Shit, he could see himself falling for somebody like that. Oh, wait. He already had.

“Trust me, if there’s one thing I never am, it’s overconfident.”

“She deserves somebody better than you.”

There was the understatement of the year. “Yeah? Well if you think you’ve got the stones, kiddo, step up. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He shrugged again and headed back down the hallway. “Remember what I said. Follow the script.”

“I ever see you out there, I’ve got a bullet with your name on it.”

Deacon chuckled and kept walking. “Yeah, I bet you do.”

Morning found Cass curled up peacefully under a blanket. The scent of fresh coffee enticing her awake and making her smile as she stretched. Before she even fully woke, she knew she’d been thoroughly used. Little aches and pains that let her know Deacon had done what he always did. Used his strength and rage to wipe everything away so she could start clean again. Her eyes opened and immediately landed on her wrists. She smiled softly at the dark purple lines crisscrossing them. The bruises he always left were as good as a rosary. Allowing her to tick off her sins one by one and offer them up for forgiveness.

Even if he only did this out of pity or something, she still appreciated it.

Cass sat up and ran a hand through her hair, surprised at how untangled it actually was for once. She tried to remember the previous night’s events but there was nothing. Just a blur of pain and pleasure. That was probably for the best.

“Hey, there she is.”

She turned her head and smiled at Deacon as he slid back into bed. An early sunbeam caught in his hair and she was momentarily stunned by how beautiful he was and how much she still loved him. This was always her favorite part. Where he pretended to care and she pretended to not notice it was still just a game. Eventually she’d have to run away from him before her heart started whispering lies that it was actually real, but the beginning was always nice.

“Hey.”

He pulled her back down into bed with him and kissed her forehead. “Your head feels okay, right? If not, I’m going to go murder Fred Allen, so… choose your words carefully.”

She laughed and snuggled against him, “It’s fine.”

“No residual wobbles or anything?”

“No.”

“Good.” His arms tightened around her, “I missed you, Charm.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Yeah… you wanna talk about any of it?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

This is why she liked Deacon. He never pushed things too hard. Never tried to make her do what she really didn’t want to do. He just let her be and gave her what she needed. It made it easier to be brave and try talking about it anyway.

She sighed, “I’m going to have to move, aren’t I?”

“Don’t look at it as moving. Look at it as having a change of scenery.”

“Diamond City’s the  _ worst _ though.”

“I know. I know it is.”

Busybodies, gossips, worshipful fans. She tried as best she could to avoid actually going there unless it was absolutely necessary. “Guess I’ll start packing today.”

“Caravan’s coming through tomorrow. You could always have them haul stuff.”

“I’m only taking what I can’t live without.”

“Ah… does that include me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank God, cause I was worried that you'd leave me here with all the other freaks for a minute.”

It almost made her laugh. “I got… embarrassed. Out in the field. Fired Mac cause he saw.”

“M’hmm.”

“Do you think I should apologize to him?”

“Probably. You’ll feel better.”

She was pretty sure that wasn’t even possible. "Hmm."

"He's guaranteed to forgive you, you know. Nobody can stay mad at you. It's physically impossible."

"I dunno, I doubt Hancock’s feeling very charitable towards me right now. You didn't see his face last night. I said things…  _ awful _ things. I have no idea how to walk any of it back."

"Give him some time. Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll assume it was just a particularly bad trip."

“You know you should be mad at me, too, right? This mess I've made means you’ll have to find somebody else to be Amari’s primary contact. I doubt very much Hancock will be okay with me just prancing back through here… and I… I don’t wanna run the risk of seeing one of his live shows, you know?”

“Yeah, well, I already got my pound of flesh last night, so don't worry about me. We're fine. Anyway, I get it, and it’s okay. You should take it easy for a bit. Don’t think about work for a few days, hmm?”

“All I have left is work.”

“That isn’t true.” His hand slid down her side and he pulled her leg up over his hip. She felt the tip of his cock press against her core and shivered. “You still have me. You’ll always have me. Remember? I’m always in your corner, Cass.”

It was already starting to be too much. Suffocating. She couldn’t stand to have him look her right in the eye and lie like that. Cass ducked her head under his chin and burrowed against his neck, eyes squeezed tightly shut to try and preserve the illusion just a little while longer.

She hadn’t even realized a whimper had left her until he started shushing her, easing into her body slow and gentle like he actually cared, gathering her in his arms like he really wanted to be in her bed. Her body was still sore from whatever they’d done in the night, but it accepted him anyway, like it always did. She could keep fighting it. Keep trying to pretend she didn’t love him all she wanted, but her body betrayed her every fucking time.

He enveloped her completely as he rocked against her. Somehow creating that addictive feeling of safety and belonging she always felt with him, even though she knew it wasn’t true. Knew it was all in her head. If she were stronger, she’d have walked away from this a long time ago, but she wasn’t. There was nothing she could do but accept whatever crumbs of affection he was capable of giving her.

His voice was low and soft in her ear, “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

It made her shiver. The sincerity he could wrap around pure fiction was amazing. He’d have made an excellent actor before the war. Real Oscar nominee material. Right up there with Grant and Cooper.

Deacon rolled them both so that he lay over her, rising up until she was forced to finally look at him. His eyes were so blue. Perfect. Intense and expressive. As good of a liar as she could be, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was never, ever going to be even half of what he was. She could never have eyes like that. His hips ground against hers and he smiled at the way she wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

She was also sort of bracing herself already. This was usually around the time he’d turn cruel and savage. Like he could sense her growing anguish at the entire situation and would douse it for her with a rush of mean hands and sharp teeth.

But he was nothing if not full of surprises.

His mouth settled on her neck, but instead of biting, she felt his tongue trace lightly along her skin. His lips just barely brushing her at times. Cass held her breath, waiting for the cruel sting that never came and squeaking in surprise when he caught her mouth and kissed her.

The feel of it was staggering. It was just the way she’d always wished he’d kiss her. Sweet, slow, passionate. It made her heart race. She could barely convince her eyes to open when he finally pulled back. Once the initial shock of it wore off though, she felt nervous. This wasn’t how their games usually went.

“You know, I just realized this is actually the first time I’ve ever really had you all to myself.”

Ah, so that was it. He was just feeling triumphant today. Felt like he’d won something by Hancock finally getting fed up and tossing her aside.

“You had me last night.”

“No, I had your body last night. Not you. There’s a difference.”

Was there really? “Oh.”

“Don’t know how long this will actually last so I gotta make it count, right?”

She flinched and averted her eyes from his. He may as well have smacked her. After all this time, all these months, he still didn’t understand how she felt in the slightest.

The worst part of it was she was still on her way to cumming already. Still couldn’t get enough of the slow drag of him deep inside her. Her body clung to him, desperate and shameful, even as she retreated inward.

He gathered her hands in his and pinned them above her head, putting a little weight behind each thrust now and nuzzling against her ear. “Does it feel good?”

Deacon might be able to lie here, but she couldn’t. “Yes.”

“M’hmm, it does. You love taking my cock, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Feels like you were made for me, doesn’t it? Every damn time.” He ground against her until she shuddered and smiled against her neck. “Gonna cum for me already, gorgeous?”

Tears were trying to escape, even as that wonderful swooping feeling was filling her stomach. Cass bit her lip and didn’t answer, just squeezed his hands. It was enough to get a rough chuckle from him.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me how feel how that pretty pussy of yours dances.” His teeth were on her neck now, still not biting, just a soft scrape that had her back arching. “Feels so good when you cum around my cock. Let me feel it, beautiful. I need it.”

Her muscles went rigid and she struggled to breathe for a moment as her whole body tried to hold him in place before she tipped over the edge. She was only vaguely aware of the almost pained way he groaned as she pulsed and rippled around him.

She barely had time to catch her breath before his lips were on hers again, kissing her with enough force to bruise as he continued to pump into her. Cass happily returned it, her mind finally floating in that place where even the weakest lie was easy to believe. Where it was no effort at all to pretend they were actual sweethearts and he genuinely cared for her like she couldn’t help but care for him.

He finally tore his mouth away and his voice was harsh. “Open your eyes, Cassie. Look at me.”

Oh, no, that was going to ruin everything. Reality always ruined everything. She squeezed them even tighter and shook her head.

“Open them.  _ Now.” _

Just a hint of anger in his words. That tone that let her know he was struggling hard to hold himself back. She knew better than to disobey when he sounded like that. Her eyes slowly opened and she did her best to stare up at him like he wanted, hoping she could still somehow hide how he actually made her feel.

His smile was shockingly gentle. She genuinely had no idea what he was thinking or even doing at this point, but for some reason something stirred in her chest. Something long dead resurrecting itself for the first time in months as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I…  _ fuck, _ it’s… I’m… Cassie, I --”

His face contorted and he set his forehead against hers. No more words, just puffs of breath and a few grunts as his rhythm suddenly stuttered. His hands released hers and he enveloped her again, crushing her body between his and the mattress, shaking like a leaf.

Cass wasn’t entirely sure what the hell had just happened until she finally felt it. Warm, dripping liquid running down the back of her. The way his cock twitched inside her still. She honestly didn’t know what to do here. He’d pressed his face into her neck, murmuring things she couldn’t quite make out. Her hand slipped into his hair out of habit, rifling through the loose curls as she waited for him to recover.

When his breathing slowed, she finally spoke. “Deacon?”

“I’m… I just came inside you.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“Is that alright?”

She closed her eyes against the pain as hope once again withered and died in her heart. God, what a mess. What kind of relationship did they even have that he had to ask such a stupid question with so much regret and uncertainty in his voice?

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“That… it…  _ goddammit. _ That isn’t what I wanted --”

“It’s  _ alright.” _ Please stop talking. Just  _ stop talking. _ Her heart could only break into so many pieces before there was nothing left.

“Cassie, listen, I--”

“I’ve got a lot of things to do today. You should go.”

“But --”   


“And probably neither of us should be anywhere near Goodneighbor when Hancock finally wakes up or sobers up or whatever, so…”

His arms tightened by a fraction, “Yeah, okay.”

The moment he let her go, she turned her head towards the window. When he left the bed, she rolled her whole body away from him. She knew without even looking what would be written all over his face and just couldn’t take it. Not today. She could barely handle carrying her own guilt and self-loathing right now.

She listened to the sounds of him getting dressed and focused on the way the early morning light hit the buildings across the way. The sunlight still soft enough to hide most of the dirt and damage.

She wished she could walk in lighting like that all the time.

His hand brushed over her hair, lingering for some odd reason. Probably hoping she’d be an adult for once and just appreciate this arrangement for what it actually was.

“You’ll be alright?”

She heard the question under the question. Could he leave her here by herself and trust that she wouldn’t just continue to lie here, wallowing in self-pity all day? “Yeah.”

“Okay… I’ll see you around, Cass.”

His hand slid away. It was stupid how much she immediately missed it. Missed him.

“See you.”

The elevator doors closed quietly and she listened to the mechanism hum as it ferried him away. She wasn’t sure how long she actually stayed there, curled up like a big baby, torturing herself by focusing on the slow way his cum dripped from her. The shadows cast by the rising sun had all but vanished by the time she collected herself enough to actually move.

She felt sticky and disgusting, but that was nothing new. It was the scent of him on her and the sheets that finally forced her to get up. There was a vague recollection of agreeing to a bath the night before, and she knew she really shouldn’t waste water on another, but she had to. Absolutely had to.

If she had to exist one more minute drowning in him today, she’d scream.

The coffee was burnt beyond all recognition by the time she finally emerged from the tub. Its taste bitter and ashy. She drank two cups anyway. Dressed herself in traveling clothes and took only what she could fit in her pack.

It’s not like she actually kept much here anyway. A handful of dresses she never wore anywhere else, a thick cardigan because Hancock never seemed to notice how chilly the State House was, a few personal hygiene odds and ends. Everything else had come with the place, except the miscellaneous paraphernalia Deacon had collected and stored here. It was already gone though. He must have packed it last night when she’d been out of it.

She finally finished and stared at her rucksack. The thing wasn’t even that big, really, and it somehow fit her entire life into it. How absurd. To think she’d once cried because her home in Sanctuary Hills hadn’t come with the walk-in closets the contractor had advertised.

There was just one thing left to do before she left Goodneighbor and she really, really didn’t want to. Unfortunately she still had just enough of her old self left in her that she knew if she didn’t, the guilt and shame would eat her alive. She took a deep breath, shouldered her pack, and hit the call button for the last time.

She refused to let herself look back.

Five minutes later, or half past noon, as her Pipboy said, Cass found herself in front of MacCready’s room at the Rex. She knew it was his because as far as the general population of Goodneighbor was concerned, she was still the mayor’s favorite piece. Clair at the front desk had been all too happy to tell her anything she wanted to know.

It was kind of sad to think she probably wouldn’t ever be back here again. Never walk these halls or see the crew again. Never hear another terrible joke from Buddy, the mobile brewery robot she'd once had so much fun tracking down with Piper. Who knew you could actually grow attached to a seedy, run down hotel in the red light district?

She’d been staring at his door for a while now. Psyching herself up for this. The last time Mac had seen her, she’d been shamefaced. Sobbing all over Deacon, too embarrassed to even function properly. Utterly ridiculous. That was the image she had to fight against here. The idea that he would look at her and finally see how pathetic she really was made her hands tremble and her stomach hurt. That was the whole reason she’d fired him the day before. The tone of his voice when he’d asked what was wrong with her had cut right through her soul and was still ringing in her ears.

But this wasn’t about her. She’d been awful to him and at the very least a  _ terrible _ boss. An even worse friend. He was just a kid and she’d dragged him down into her bullshit when she’d sworn she wouldn’t. That couldn’t stand.

So she stood up nice and straight. Adjusted her general’s hat so it sat at a jaunty angle on her head. Made sure her hair was still properly tucked away in its no nonsense bun. Pinched some pink back into her cheeks.  Convincing her hand to finally knock on his door took some doing, but she did it. Even managed to plaster that wide, studio-trained, perfect sweetheart smile on her face as she heard the lock turn.

_ General Cassandra Jones, Commonwealth Minutemen. Ready to help at a minute’s notice. How do you do, sir? _

Here we go.

Mac finally opened the door, squinting down at her with a crabby look on his face. His eyes were bloodshot, hair adorably disheveled. He had a sour smell about him that reminded her of college frat parties. Sweat and whiskey. Somebody had painted lipstick all over him and she was fairly certain he wasn’t actually wearing pants...

Oh… oh,  _ no. _

She held onto her smile for dear life. “Oh, I’m - I’m terribly sorry. I had no idea you were… entertaining. I’ll just… I’ll - I’ll be going now. Thank you. Sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you. Again. Sorry.”

Cass had no idea how panicked she actually was until the words just wouldn’t stop tumbling out. All of her bravery and determination to be a decent human being disappeared and she turned to flee when his hand suddenly shot out and caught hers. She froze and stared hard down the hallway, wishing she were anywhere but here.

“Wait.” His voice was rough and gravelly. Either it or the feel of his hand wrapped around hers was making goosebumps crawl up her legs.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Summoning up a sharp voice from a lifetime ago in her head.  _ Places, people. Come on. Last take. Gotta get this in the can. Ready? Three, two, one and… _

“Hey, Mac. Good morning.” She opened her eyes, turned back to him and offered up the best smile she could manage under these terribly unprofessional circumstances.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry to bother you so, um, early?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He apparently bought the act enough to not realize just how much of her brain was still screaming at her to flee and dropped her hand, running his through his hair to try and smooth it down a little. “What’s up?”

God, why’d he have to do that? Seriously. Her eyes followed the movement and then couldn’t help but settle on his face properly, which she had thus far successfully avoided taking in all at once. She’d been infatuated with him enough just watching him walk around the wastes fully clothed like anybody else.  _ This _ Mac, all rumpled and messy and  _ dirty, _ was almost too much. It just was. Even the grumpy way he was scowling at the world, like all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed, was doing terrible things to her.

Goddammit.

She finally realized he was staring at her, waiting for an answer, and blinked.  _ “Oh! _ Oh, well, I just, um, I mean, I wanted to apologize. For everything. For… not being fair to you and for involving you in my own personal drama and… just…  _ so _ unprofessional and I mean, that doesn’t... “ She frowned and tried to collect her thoughts. Her hands fluttered around nervously but she couldn’t stop them  _ and _ work her mouth at the same time right now. “The thing is, I’m not… not really  _ boss _ material, you know? I… ugh, no. No, that’s… no excuses, just…”  _ Shit.  _ She really should have rehearsed something before just showing up here and winging it. Improv had never been her thing.

He shifted, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame. The mildly amused expression on his face wasn’t helping her hold this character, so she averted her eyes. Right smack down his chest, along the happiest of trails, to where just a hint of a smooth, naked hipbone was visible behind the door.

Cass felt her cheeks go warmer than they already were and wanted to die right there on the spot. Just… lower the curtain. Cue house lights. _ Thank you, everybody! You’ve been a wonderful audience! Be sure to tell your friends and family about the show. _ The end.

“Are you trying to apologize for firing me?”

“I’m - I’m… the reasons weren’t… and it wasn’t -- what I mean is, I shouldn’t have…” She finally gave up with a sigh and just nodded like an idiot. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Okay. Apology accepted.”

Why couldn’t she stop nodding? “Good. Good, good, good. That’s… that’s all good, then. That’s uh - that’s great. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her eyes darted to his and she finally realized he was actually capable of maintaining a perfectly deadpan expression almost as well as Deacon could. She’d never seen that on him before. Not being able to tell what he was thinking just made her even more skittish. If such a thing were even possible at this point.

Of course, she’d never been on the outs with him before, either. Not really. Even when they first met, she’d had a joke to slide under his defenses with.

When she just kept staring at him, he finally started to look uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Was that it?”

Shit. How much time had she wasted here already? She needed to get the hell outta Dodge before Hancock finally told his crew to ‘help’ her leave or something.

“No. No, it wasn’t.” Fuck it. This would be the last time she ever saw him anyway, right? He wasn’t even  _ from _ here. It’s not like she  _ had _ to be dignified. She’d just wanted to be. Cass closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the words tumble out so she could finally run away from this painfully awkward moment.

“I’m sorry you found out what Deacon does and I'm sorry for how you found out. I’m sorry you were so worried about me for so long. I’m sorry I didn’t just explain things from the start. I'm sorry I lied. I’m sorry I let you think I was someone I’m not anymore. I’m sorry I used you to make myself feel better. I’m sorry I meddled in your business and I’m sorry for everything else I did during your very short employment with me.” She finally ran out of steam and had to take a second to breathe again. Her eyes finally opened and she knew he could see how exhausted and sad she was but was beyond caring at this point. “I’m leaving Goodneighbor today and I won’t be coming back, so I just wanted to make sure you knew all that.”

“You’re leaving Goodneighbor?”

She nodded and kept her eyes downcast.

“Why?”

“Hancock is… and we're…" She sighed, "I’m just not wanted here anymore.”

“Where are you going?”

“Um…” She wiped at her eyes before tears started to fall and truly, finally put the nail in the coffin as far as her dignity went. “Probably Diamond City for a couple of days.” She shrugged, “I dunno where after that. Wherever I’m useful, I guess.”

“Okay… well, I don’t suppose you have any leads on any jobs or anything? You know, before you go? I looked around a little last night, but uh… I just need to keep caps coming in, is the thing. It’s important.”

Of course. His son. He was trying to save his little boy. If he didn’t let her and the Minutemen help him with whatever it was gonna take, he’d have to hire people instead. That took a lot of money.

Especially since most of the formerly independent operators in the Commonwealth now worked for her.

“You… um… if you go to the Castle, Preston can put you to work. There’s always something that --”

“Yeah, nah, see, the thing is, I’m usually not so hot at, you know, following orders and whatever. You probably noticed when you were yelling at me to not disobey yours.”

“Oh.”

“I just do better if I’m part of an actual team more than just another underling. I guess.”

“Right. Sure.” Dr. Li, maybe? No, she’d eat him alive. So would Marcy in Sanctuary. The Cabots were too weird and Edward was too old and set in his ways for juvenile shenanigans.

“Actually, those two weeks with you were probably some of the smoothest of my whole career.”

She almost laughed, but just caught herself. “That’s uh… that’s…  _ wow.” _

“I know, right?” He shrugged, “Not everybody gets me, I guess”

“Well, that’s a shame because you’re just wonderful to work with.” Kessler, maybe? She was used to dealing with hotheads and restless spirits. Of course, him being at Bunker Hill meant that he’d eventually end up dealing with either Dez or Glory at some point and neither of them were exactly known for their patience. Oh, God, or heaven forbid,  _ Deacon. _ Sweet Jesus.

“What’d be really great is if I could get another job with somebody just like you. I don’t suppose you know of any local militia leaders who need a jerk like me watching their backs, do you?”

Perhaps Ellie? She had been finding being mayor of Diamond City challenging and she could certainly use someone tough and scary standing behind her giving those upper stands jerks the evil eye. Or maybe even Nick? He needed a new assistant and Mac was very capable and...wait.

“I’m sorry, what? What did you say?”

“I just asked if I can come back and work for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“You’d actually want to?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, unless you really hate me or whatever.”

“No! No, of course not. I don’t… I mean, I could never hate you.” Ah, now he was smiling at her. Cass decided suddenly that the pattern of the wallpaper was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen and focused on it. “It’s just… well, I’m - I’m terribly embarrassed. Still. Maybe even forever, and --”

“What’re you embarrassed about?”

That got her attention. She stared at him incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Every single moment we’ve known each other up to and including this one.”

“There’s no reason for you to be embarrassed.”

“Of course there is.”

“Nah, not really.” His grin from before made a return except this time it was a little less platonic than the last one. “Anyway, I couldn’t help but notice that in all that apologizing, you never said you were sorry for um… well, for what happened at Somerville.”

“Oh.” Should she start apologizing again? She was pretty sure that was covered under the whole ‘sorry I used you’ part. “Well, I’m --”

“I’m glad you’re not sorry about it. Cause I’m definitely not.”

This was a very odd conversation to have with someone who was still wearing someone else’s lipstick. “You aren’t?”

“Fu-heck no.”

“I hope you know that what happened there isn’t a typical thing for me. I don’t… I don’t make a habit of…  _ that.” _

“Yeah, I figured. So? Do I still have a job or not?”

“I just don’t know if that’s a good idea...”

“Oh, I remember this. We’ve had this conversation before.” 

“What?”

He smirked, “Why don’t we try and find out for sure?”

She suddenly remembered the last time he said that to her and went back to staring at the wallpaper. “Anyhoo, I’ve gotta leave now. Like, now-now. Right now.”

“Okay.”

“And you’re clearly um,  _ busy, _ so…”

“Busy?”

“M’hmm.” ‘Busy’ was the nicest way she could think to put it.

“What am I busy with?”

He sounded legitimately confused and Cass almost laughed again, “Really?”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

She reached up, wiped some of the lipstick off his cheek and held up her finger so he could see. “Did you forget you have company, honey?”

His eyes went huge and suddenly he was that adorable, blushing boy again.  _ “Shit. _ Has that been there this whole time?”

“Yes.”

Mac scrubbed at his face and then glared at the stubborn red on his palm,  _ “Fuck.” _

For the first time that day, Cass laughed. He just looked so flustered now. Her hand clapped over her mouth but she just couldn’t stop giggling.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You say that too much.”

She was still laughing when a voice boomed out from down the hallway.

_ “Cass!” _

Her whole body jumped and she squeezed her eyes shut, praying it was all a bad dream. “Oh, no.”

“Hey! Boss wants a  _ word _ with you.” Fahr was stomping up the hallway, looking like she hadn’t slept at all last night.

“I gotta go, Mac.”

“What? What’s goin’ --”

“I’m sorry. I gotta go!”

He watched her dart down the hallway, feinting left and then diving right when Fahr tried to grab her. Her tiny stature helped make her a smaller target as she rolled and bounced up off the carpet, sprinting away before the angry redhead even got turned around properly.

_ “Fuck! _ Slippery little… goddammit! Cass! Come on! Don’t make me fucking chase you down!”

Mac stared in disbelief as Hancock’s personal guard thundered after her, cursing the whole way. The fuck was happening right now? Whatever had gone down between her and Hancock must’ve not been pleasant, that was for damn sure.

Her hat was sitting forgotten in the middle of the hallway. It had fallen from her head mid-combat roll. He looked around a bit and then sauntered out, grabbing it and setting it on his own head as he wandered back to his room. Another guest poked their head out to see what all the fuss was about, got an eyeful, and then immediately shut their door as he grinned at them.

Well… maybe not  _ exactly  _ how he’d envisioned getting his job back, but at least now he had a reason to follow Cass to Diamond City.

Couldn’t very well be a general without her silly hat, now could she?


	8. Improvisation

Mac made it to Diamond City around dinner time. He would’ve been there sooner, but about thirty minutes after Cass’s sudden departure from Goodneighbor, Fahr had come to interrogate him about what they’d been talking about. If he knew what her plans were, what  _ his _ plans were, if he worked for her or not. Questions, questions, questions. Allegedly Hancock was ‘concerned for her welfare’, but the shit she was asking on his behalf sure sounded a lot more like a jealous ex’s obsession than a dutiful mayor just doing his civic duty in his opinion.

The first random person he asked within the gates pointed him in the direction of her house. Seemed like everybody knew her here. He wandered up to her door, took in the ‘the walls have eyes’ poster next to it with some amusement, and knocked.

A Mister Handy in a bowler hat answered the door. “Hello. May I help you?”

He was almost positive Cass had told him this thing’s name. Started with a C, maybe… “Codsworth, right?”

“Have we met, sir?”

“No, but I work for the general. Is she in?”

“Oh, I’m afraid not. Miss Cassandra is dining at the Dugout Inn this evening. May I take a message?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll go check in with her there.”

“Very good, sir. Good evening.”

“Yeah, bye.”

He sighed. Great. The Dugout. That meant the Bobrovs.

A few minutes later, Mac was easing down the long hallway into the bar, doing his best to be quiet and almost invisible. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Vadim, or anything. Hell, the guy was always good for a laugh and a free drink. It’s just the last time he’d been up this way, he’d had Lucy on his arm still. He just wasn’t ready to reminisce about any of that yet. Especially not today when he was trying to weasel his way back into Cass’s good graces by any means necessary.

Luckily, the bartender in question was busy berating some other merc and didn’t even look up when he walked in. At first he didn’t see Cass at all. She wasn’t in the main seating area. Then a slurred voice came from a dark corner to his left.

“Hey, it’s Mac... or a reasonable facsimile thereof.”

Cass was curled up in a chair, a bottle of vodka clutched against her chest. The glass on the table in front of her more for show at this point than anything else. She was already wobbly, but gave him a sunny smile that lit up her whole face right up until it dissolved into tears.

“Whoa, boss.” Mac darted over to her and tugged the bottle away, setting it out of reach. “Hey, it’s alright. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Sure it is.” He wasn’t about to approach the bar right now, but luckily he had a can of water in his pack and handed it to her. “Here. Drink some of this, okay?”

She accepted it and pouted down at the floor, huge tears rolling down her cheeks.

He sat on the table in front of her and opened the can for her. “Drink.” He watched her take the smallest of sips and nodded. “Good. Okay… what happened?”

“Everything’s a mess.”   


“It’s really not.”

“It’s all ruined.”

“Nope.”

“He doesn’t love me. Never will. I kept… kept thinking he would. I  _ keep _ thinking he  _ will. _ I’m so  _ stupid. _ I’m… I’m just a ghost chasing a shadow. There’s no point to any of it.”

Man. Just when he thought he might be able to take Hancock off the official list of known assholes, he was right back on it. “His loss.”

She shook her head slowly, her loose hair falling in her face. Her gaze finally tilted back up and she focused on him again. “Hey."

Alright, take two, he guessed. "Hey."

"Why’re you here?”

“Oh. Well, funny story, actually!” He tucked her hair behind her ears, unable to help himself, and grinned at her, “Seems the Minutemen's General misplaced her fancy hat. I found it and now I’m here to collect my reward.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion, “Reward?”

“Yup. I thought about keepin’ it at first. Wore it around for a few hours, you know. Just to experience the power. Get a feel for being a general and all. It’s not really for me, though. Too much responsibility. Too many idiots.  _ Way _ too much farming.”

She finally seemed to catch on that he was joking and smiled a little. “So… what’s the reward? How many caps does this hatless general owe you anyway?”

“Hmm, I dunno. I mean, it’s probably some priceless artifact or something, right? What’s a hat like that go for on the open market anyway?”

“Probably a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. What kinda merc would I be if I didn’t try to get all I could out of it?”

“Hardly a merc at all.”

“Exactly. Maybe I’ll ransom it. See how high I can talk her up.”

“Hmm.”

Mac pulled it out and held it just out of reach, “Then again, if she were willing to trade something of equal value… maybe something just as priceless…”

Cass gave him a lopsided smile, “Oh, I get it. This the part where you trade me my hat for your old job back, right?”

“Nah, I already got that.”

“What? No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. Ask Codsworth. I work for the general.”

“You… you lied to my robot?”

“Lie is such a harsh word, boss.”

“Not your boss.”

“Of course you are. You’re just drunk. You dunno what you’re saying.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “So… if you aren’t here for your job, what’s the hat gonna cost me?”

He hit her with his most charming grin, “One kiss. I will trade you this amazing hat and all the fuzzy good Minutemen feels it comes with, for one little kiss. You won’t find a better deal than that anywhere, I guarantee it.”

Her cheeks went rosy and she jerked her eyes away from his. “No, that’s… that’s a bad idea. It’s…”

Shit. Too soon. He was pushing this too soon. He was so amped up to do everything in his power to get her away from that bastard who kept hurting her, he’d forgotten the other bastard who she was mourning the loss of tonight.

Plan B then.   


“Well, I’d take it on IOU but you still haven’t paid me for the other ones yet, so…” Mac leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. “There. Payment received. Here’s your hat.” He dropped it onto her head. “You can keep the receipt. I should get you home, boss. What kinda guard am I if I can’t even protect you from a hangover, right?”

“I don’t…” She frowned in confusion. “I really can’t remember hiring you back.”

Jackpot. “Well, you did. I mean, would I lie about something like  _ work? _ Come on. You know me better than that.”

“Oh. Right… you’re right. I’m sorry.”

He chose to ignore the guilt poking him in the stomach and stood, holding a hand out for her. “Don’t worry about it. Just take my hand.” Her eyes went to the vodka on the table and he frowned, using the same firm voice he always did when Duncan was being naughty. “Leave it.”

_ “Okay. _ Okay, okay.” Her hand slipped into his and he felt like he could finally breathe again.

It took considerably longer to get Cass back home than it had to get from there to the Dugout. Mostly because she tended to drift as he tugged her along, but also because everybody wanted to stop them to say hello or pat her on the back. They made it to the corner before he’d finally had enough and just picked her up, carrying her the rest of the way with a look Lucy had once laughingly referred to his ‘big scary mungo face’.

Silly name or not, it got the job done. Nobody tried to stop them and Codsworth let them in without so much as batting an aperture. Just introduced himself again and let him know the ‘guest suite’ was already prepared for company. There was also a big, fluffy dog stretched out in front of the fireplace. It looked impressive and all, but the thing barely spared him a glance before it went back to snoring.

Honestly, the lack of security she had around her was kind of shocking. Any asshole could have just slipped right in this place. The robot was ridiculously trusting for a Mister Handy. Or his experience of them, anyway. They generally tended to attack on sight. Even those who were gainfully employed never seemed to hesitate with the insults and threatening gestures. Codsworth though was essentially a metallic child. Trusting, naive, basically useless.

Her bedroom was up a set of stairs in the back part of the house. Some kinda loft thing. Nice. Pretty blankets and soft pillows. A bedside table with a functioning lamp and a nearby dresser full of clothes. It had a radio and stack of books on top. Homey, really.

He was guessing the guest suite was further up the stairs. He could just barely make out a bed on the upper landing through the darkness. That would be handy. He could watch over her while she slept. Make sure nobody else talked their way in here.

Seriously, he was going to have to have a chat with the stupid robot.

Cass was already nearly asleep by the time he set her on the bed and sat next to her, tossing her hat on the dresser and unlacing her boots while she lethargically wiggled out of her coat. Her eyes were bleary and exhausted, that terrible haunted look from when they’d been in Cambridge present again. He hated that.

He helped her crawl under the covers and ran his hand over her hair, dropping another kiss on her forehead while he had the chance.

“Goodnight, Cass.”

“Mac?”

“Yeah?”

There was a long pause and she was looking at him like she really wanted to say something, but she just shook her head. “Nothing. Night.”

“I’ll be just up the stairs, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

He watched her until her eyes closed and then moved on to his own bed. Pretty much the same set up, except there was a locker for storage. That was handy.

It’s not like you could store a sniper rifle in a dresser, right?

It was still early by his standards, but he was exhausted anyway. Between ‘entertaining’, as Cass had put it, last night, dealing with Deacon, getting the world’s strangest wake up call and floor show, and jogging all the way from Goodneighbor to Diamond City once he’d gotten his shit together, he was beat.

Mac took off anything that might poke him in the night and then collapsed on the bed. It was infinitely better than both the bed at Somerville and the finest accommodations the Rex had to offer. Cass must still be operating on pre-war standards, or maybe the robot was.

He finally noticed there was a ladder leading to a hatch beyond his feet. Must be the access for that little Airstream trailer on the top of her house. It was cute. Immediately caught his eye when he’d first arrived. He’d always had a thing for trailers. No idea why, they just seemed so cool. A whole house you could just take anywhere you wanted to go. Never having to sleep on the ground again, always knowing there’d be a roof over your head. Pretty fucking handy.

He wondered if Cass ever slept in it when it was warm out. He definitely would.

The more he relaxed, the more his mind tried to wander. That’s how it always went. Then the regrets started to slip in, more every day. Tonight’s additions were mostly about Cass. 

He wished he hadn’t let her return to Goodneighbor last night. Somehow. Deliberately shot himself in the foot or something. She was a soft touch. She’d have insisted on staying with him and getting him to a proper doctor.

He wished he’d gone ahead and shot Deacon while he had the chance, or at least socked him once. Guy seemed like any other generic jerk but fuck, he had  _ moves. _ Serious, dangerous, dirty moves. That plus the shit he liked to do to Cass made Mac especially suspicious that he had, in fact, at one time been a raider. Shit, maybe even currently. Okay, probably not though. Most raiders didn’t get past thirty, thirty-five tops, and while he wasn’t the best judge of ages, he was pretty sure the guy had to be pushing fifty at least.

Must have implants or something to still move like he did.

There was something familiar about him, too. Same feel he’d had with Cass before he’d figured out she’d been that girl from the holo. He highly doubted the guy had been another pre-war movie star though. What were the odds? He’d figure it out. He always did.

He wished he’d thought to talk to Daisy before he’d ever hit the road with Cass in the first place. Things would have gone a lot smoother if he’d known to keep a closer eye on her with her weird… whatever it was. Deacon had called it ‘blanking’ but he was sure it had a proper name. Most things did. He couldn’t believe nobody seemed to know what the hell was happening to her. You’d think somebody out there would have some clue, but if they’d already called in every egghead in the Commonwealth, then maybe there really wasn’t an answer. Maybe she just needed time and support to heal.

It was hard to believe the stuff Deacon  _ or _ Hancock did with her could possibly fall under the umbrella of support though. How was it helping her to get hurt all the time? Or doped out of her mind or whatever?

He wished, for the bajillionth time, that his wife were still alive. Lucy had always had a special knack for helping people with invisible wounds. She’d have known what to do. He was sure of it.

There was movement on the stairs and he turned his head just in time to see Cass shuffle onto the landing.

“Boss? What’s wrong?”

She mumbled something and stumbled his way, crawling into bed, pushing him off his own damn pillow, before finally pulling his head down to hold it against her chest like a teddy bear.

Mac went along with it because he’d heard that’s what you should do with sleepwalkers. Something about how it was bad to wake them? For some reason?

Of course, now he found himself in a potentially perilous situation.

She couldn’t stay here. Absolutely not. If she woke up and found herself in his bed, she’d assume he’d  _ really _ taken advantage of her. Beyond the gaslighting at the bar. What if she got handsy during the night? What if  _ he _ got handsy? How the hell was he supposed to sleep with her smothering him between her breasts?

The problem was, at the angle he was stuck at, he was at a loss for how to get himself up so he could move her. He was worried if he tried, she’d end up rolling off the bed altogether. So he was just stuck.

Looked like another sleepless night. Joy.

He lay there next to her, stiff as a board for all of five minutes before he decided that was stupid. Couldn’t very well stay that way all night. He relaxed and put his arm over her waist. It was nice and all, but he was still pretty grumbly about it.

God, she smelled amazing though. Soap and something else. Something crisp and sweet. He had no idea what the hell it was, but he liked it. It was soothing. Called up images of spring blooms and chilly nights spent by a fire for some reason.

Wow, that was dumb. When had he become such a sap?

Another regret he had was that he’d banged Magnolia last night. He didn’t regret the sex or anything. That was… fine. It hadn’t seemed quite as fine as any of the other times he’d hired her for an evening’s company but it was alright.

What he regretted was why he’d done it. He’d been upset after he couldn’t convince Cass to leave Deacon in the alley. Hurt that she’d prefer something like that to being with him. Confused to say the very least. Angry that he hadn’t figured things out sooner. Mortified that he probably would have had his ass handed to him had she not intervened. Deacon’s laughter ringing in his ears, the image of Cass’s tear stained face turning away from him burned into his retinas for all time.

He’d only gone to the Rail to drink enough whiskey to wipe all that shit away. Just not think for a while. Get drunk enough to fall into bed and not dream.

Mags had been on stage still. Just finishing her set for the evening. She’d smiled at him when he walked in, and then joined him at the bar after a half hour and halfway through his bottle. She was the same as she always was. Pretty and nice. A good listener. Interesting. He’d thought if he could just get lost in the feel of her, he’d be able to forget what he’d experienced with Cass.

It hadn’t gone that way though. No matter how many techniques she’d used or how enthusiastically she’d faked things, he couldn’t even get to half mast until after the lights were off. Almost an hour in. Way too long to just be written off as whiskey dick.

That had been embarrassing. Not as embarrassing as calling Mags by the wrong name more than once or having his evening interrupted by Deacon, but still pretty fucking embarrassing.

Of course, that had all paled in comparison to the next morning. Having an entire conversation with the true object of your desires, trying as hard as you could to be mature and smooth about shit, and then finding out you were still covered in some other woman’s fucking lipstick the whole goddamn time. That… that might go down as the single most awkward, terrible, shameful moment of his life. Cass had been a sweetheart about it, but still. Fuck.

Plus, now he was worried she’d reframed the things they’d done in her mind. She’d told him she usually didn’t do stuff like that and he believed her. The way she turned nervous and shy on him both times kinda let him know this wasn’t a lady who typically screwed her new hires. Despite her having, at the time, a relationship with both Hancock and Deacon, he still felt their two evenings together were special. Unique.

Now he was worried she would look at him like some kind of immature horndog who jumped into the sack with just anybody. Or that he was used to sleeping with his bosses, or something. Basically, Mac was a little worried that she viewed him as a slut. She didn’t seem like the type to hold that against somebody, but still, he worried.

Maybe if he could somehow slip it into casual conversation that he’d actually only ever taken four girls total to bed,  _ in his life, _ then she’d understand how special their time together had been.

The irony that he, a person with no significant others, was worried that Cass, somebody with multiple significant others, would see him as promiscuous hadn’t been lost on him. Mac was pretty sure though that even if the whole Commonwealth knew the stuff she’d gotten up to, no one would ever dare think of her like that.  And if they ever did, he’d be there with a smile and a fist.

He’d told Cass he hadn’t been interested in a relationship and he’d meant it. He really did. He had a lot of shit to deal with before he even dreamed of thinking about finding somebody new to settle down with.

Sometimes though, providence just plopped the perfect person down in front of you at the absolute worst time and you just had to suck it up and do what you had to do.

She kept muttering in her sleep. Nothing loud enough that he could catch it, but every once in a while she’d hug his head really, really tight. Which would have been great in any other circumstances, but right now being squished into her breasts while her fingers combed through his hair was driving him insane.

Plus, somehow his hand had found its way under her shirt. When had that happened? Nowhere interesting, really, just resting on the skin of her back. Totally innocent.

Okay, maybe not so innocent. If things were truly on the up and up, why was he so hard and why was it increasingly difficult to keep his stupid head from nuzzling against her, hmm? Yeah. Cause he was a terrible, disgusting human being. That’s why.

The woman had just had her heart broken last night. Literally gotten chased out of a town she used to practically be queen of. Had to flee to the douchebag capital of the Commonwealth. Got tricked by some bastard at a bar.

She’d had a rough day, was the thing.

So Mac took a deep breath, through his mouth so he didn’t breathe her in any more than he had to, closed his eyes and decided to just hope for the best here. They were both still fully clothed. On top of the blankets. She wasn’t the hysterical type. She’d wake up and see he’d been the best possible boy he could be under the circumstances and…

No, wait. Man.  _ Not _ boy. Best possible gentle _ man _ under the circumstances.

Mac didn’t even realize when he finally started to drift off. It felt like one second he was wide awake and the next he was opening his eyes to a whole new day. Alone. No sign of Cass.

He rose up a little and peeked over into her loft. Not there, either.

His watch said it was barely seven, and he’d always hated getting up early, but he was too nervous to see if he really had a job or not to go back to sleep.

When he finally tracked her down, she was face down on the kitchen table. There was a pot of coffee in front of her and a half empty cup next to it. Codsworth puttered around in the kitchen, idly cleaning already clean appliances when his sensors must have finally picked him up.

He floated over and spoke in a voice that was barely audible. “Good morning, Mister MacCready. Mum is feeling rather unwell this morning. Please do keep your voice down.”

Mac whispered back, “Got a headache, huh?”

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Is she having breakfast?”

“Miss Cassandra prefers coffee only in the morning.”

Hmm. So that really was a long term bad habit then. “I’ll just have coffee then, too.”

“Very good, sir.”

He approached the table with caution and quietly sat down next to her. She didn’t even look awake, truthfully. She had changed her clothes though at some point. Some old world men's pajamas with a sweater draped over her shoulders, her hair back in it’s simple braid. The way the pants and sleeves were rolled up so they would fit her, she kinda looked like a kid.

Sick day attire, apparently.

Codsworth set a new mug in front of him, poured a cup and then took the pot back for a refill. Cass finally looked up and Mac would never, ever say it but at this particular moment, yes, he absolutely believed she was thirty-eight. At least, the bags under her eyes were that old. The rest of her pretty much looked like it always did. A weird crease across her forehead from where it had rested on her arm for so long, but other than that, same old Cass.

“Hey.”

“Mmm.”

He chuckled, “Feel that bad, huh?”

“Mmm.” She went back to resting her head.

“Mum?”

Her head rolled to the side just enough to look at Codsworth. “Hmm?”

“If you feel up to, you should retire to the theater. Relax a bit. I’ll set everything up for you.”

“Mmm.”

“Yes, mum.” Codsworth floated off back towards where they’d slept and Mac was amazed that somehow the Mister Handy apparently recognized mumbles and moaning as a proper language.

“You have a theater?”

Cass groaned and dragged herself up out of her chair, stumbling along with him following close behind to make sure she didn’t fall down or otherwise injure herself. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at the place yet, but it was nice. The main area was split between a kitchen and a living room. The other half of the house had the beds upstairs, a bathroom under the first landing, and now that he was looking at it, a whole other living room? This one just had a rug, couch, and a whole mess of cushions all over the floor. A coffee table sat off to the side with a few board games stacked on top. There was a TV in the corner and he assumed that’s what the ‘theater’ was until Codsworth actually pulled down a retractable white screen on the far wall across from the seating area.

He watched Cass flop down on the couch, still occasionally grumbling to herself. Codsworth whirred around and drifted under the stairs, where some kind of contraption was bolted to the wall.

“Shall we let our guest choose the movie, mum?”

“Mmm.”

“Very well.” He focused on Mac. “Mister MacCready, Miss Cassandra’s holo library contains over three hundred movies, concerts and specials. What would you like to see?”

“Uh…” Holy shit. He hadn’t even known there were that many movies in existence. He didn’t even know the names of… oh, wait. “You got the Beach Bunny series?”

A series of extremely disgruntled groans and mutterings came from the couch but for some reason, Codsworth seemed to have suddenly lost the ability to translate. 

_ “Oh! _ Yes, sir! I do adore those! Miss Cassandra’s acting is always such a delight! So wholesome, you know! It really takes you back to a simpler time.”

“You got a favorite?”

“Goodness. No one’s ever asked me that before…” His processors whirred for a moment, “According to my data, I have spent more time watching  _ ‘Beach Bunny Blanket Bop’ _ than any of the others. I suppose because Miss Cassandra sings in that one. I do enjoy music.”

“She’s a singer, too?”

“Yes, sir. ‘Coconut Countess’ was the big hit from that one. Spent a whole month at the top of the Pop Chart!”

He had no idea what that meant. “Oh, great. Neat… uh… I think I’ve heard of that song before, actually.”

“Really, sir? That’s astounding! You know, she plays the guitar, too!”

“Wow. She’s some talent.”

“A true triple threat, sir. Acting, singing, dancing. Mum did it all!”

“Cool. Let’s watch it then!”

“Oh, wonderful! Please have a seat.”

Mac gave him a thumbs up and went to join Cass. She was glaring as hard as she could at him with one eye and he knew better than to ask her to move over any. Instead he flopped down onto the floor and leaned on one of the many cushions. He grinned at her irritated expression and she huffed at him.

“Alright, Miss Cassandra, Mister MacCready. I present without further ado,  _ ‘Beach Bunny Blanket Bop’!” _

He switched on the projector and Mac settled in properly to watch. Cass’s head was right above his and he heard her resigned sigh as the opening credits began. Mac turned and rose up just enough that she could see his eyes.

“If you really don’t want us to watch this, it's cool. I’ll tell Codsworth to put in something else.”

She stared at him for a moment and her eyes got soft like they sometimes did. “S’okay.”

He smiled at her, “Okay.”

“No teasing.”

“Ah, I can’t promise that, boss. Come on. I’m only human.”

The first shot of the movie almost ruined everything for him right then and there. At least five solid minutes of Cass bouncing around in her swimsuit in slo-mo while the names of random people scrolled down the screen. Hair somehow perfectly coiffed despite her playing in the surf. A hell of a lot curvier than he remembered ‘Corny’ ever being. This one must have been later in the series than  _ ‘Bongos’ _ had been.

If he’d found this holo, he’d have been made  _ King _ of Lamplight.

“Uh… so, how old were you in this one?”

“You can’t tell?”

“I am actually terrible with ages it turns out, so no.”

She laughed softly behind him, “Eighteen.”

“Ah.”

“Why?”

Now there was a question. Why? Why  _ had _ he wanted to know how old she was? He found himself literally unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. Corny giggled and jiggled all over the place, happily splashing around on some far off beach. They’d somehow managed to find even smaller swimsuits for her, or maybe they were the same swimsuits and she just had more to stuff in them. Either way, God bless the Columbia Pictures movie studio.

“Y-you just look older, is all.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you’d noticed they could put me in more risque costumes.”

“Well… I mean, now that you mention it…”

“M’hmm.”

Ah, the volleyball montage began. The other movie had started this way, too. Corny working hard on her ‘set’, valiantly smacking a ball over a net among the other girls who were far taller and even more shapely.  That seemed to be a running theme. It was like they wanted you to forget how cute she really was or something. Kept referring to her as a ‘runt’.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mmm.”

“How’d you make the bikini stay on? I mean, you’re all over the place in it and it never moves.”

“They had this stuff… glue in a can. Sprayed it all over me before they put the suit on.”

“You’re  _ glued _ into your suit?”

“Yup.”

“Ugh.”

“I know.”

“Also, why does everybody in the movie act like you aren’t… uh, well, you know, hot or whatever?”

“Oh, cause Corny’s supposed to be the nice girl next door you root for and people never want to root for a girl who knows she’s pretty. She was billed as an oblivious tomboy type, despite the mani pedis and perfect hair and whatever. People bought it because that was the fantasy, I guess.”

Well, that was stupid. He rooted for her plenty and he knew damn well she knew she was pretty. “I feel like people before the war were a lot dumber than people now.”

“Of course they were. Why do you think they hit the button?”

He let out an amused snort.

The movie seemed to follow the general theme of the other he’d seen. Corny bouncing around like a good little bunny, minding her own damn business, when some jerk challenges a friend. She rushes to her friend's defense, and the battle is on. This time some mean music producer was going to close their beach for a summer concert series and Corny talked her friends into forming a band so they could ‘save their summer’. He didn’t really get it, but all her friends onscreen were equally stacked, so whatever. He’d happily watch a bunch of hot, barely clothed girls play in a rock and roll band all day.

He was just about to comment on the fact that, if this movie were shot nowadays, one of her spunky friends (Maybe the drummer? She seemed to have a temper on her.) would’ve just shanked the jerk and the problem would’ve been solved when her fingers idly slid into his hair and he temporarily forgot how to breathe.

“I really like your hair.”

Mac was dedicating a large portion of his brain power to resisting the urge to moan but managed to rally enough for a reply. “Oh, yeah?” There. Brilliant.

“Yeah. Did you ever think about growing it out?”

“Oh, uh…” Goddamn, it was just so fucking soothing. How the hell was she doing that? “I did, once. Wore it tied back. Got in the way a lot.”

“Hmm. I bet it was cute.”

He was about to lie his ass off and talk about how he’d totally been thinking of growing it out again when she patted his head and then her hand was gone. He felt practically bereft.

“Thanks for getting me home last night. Hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

He glanced back at her, “You don’t remember?”

“I remember buying a bottle of vodka, being surprised at seeing you and… then I woke up.”

That didn’t seem normal. She was little, sure, but she hadn’t drank that much. “Do you always blackout when you drink like that?”

“No, but there might’ve been some residual... “ She frowned thoughtfully, “Hang on, I need to write something down.”

“Oh… okay.” He watched her drag herself back off the couch and bumble along back towards the kitchen.

“Codsworth!”

“Miss Cassandra?”

“I need you to put in a drop.”

“Of course, mum. The usual railsign?”

“Yup.”

He narrowed his eyes as he listened. Railsign meant Railroad, right? And Daisy had named Deacon as her ‘Railroad friend’. So she must be sending him a message about something they did while in Goodneighbor.

Maybe Hancock wasn’t the only one drugging her.

Part of him wanted to call her out on it. Make her sit down and just keep talking until she finally realized she could do a hell of a lot better than some bastard who… but no. She’d said he never did anything she didn’t ask for. That seemed insane to him.

He wasn’t an idiot and he wasn’t some fresh off the farm bumpkin. He knew all about people enjoying a little slap and tickle. Hell, he himself had been smacked once by Cass and, in the moment, it was _ crazy _ hot. But she hadn’t actually hurt him, just surprised him. The stuff Deacon did  _ hurt. _ Really hurt. Injured, even.

She was just so delicate and sweet and…  _ nice. _ He didn’t know nice girls did things like that. Couldn’t figure out why they’d even want to.

Cass finally walked back in and he smiled up at her, “Everything okay?”

“Oh, sure. It’s… I’m sure it’s nothing. Better safe than sorry though.” She eyeballed his position on the floor and a line appeared between her brows. “You don’t… you can sit on the couch, with me, if you want. You don’t have to, but…”

Mac was already in motion, taking the seat formerly occupied by her pillow. “Thanks.”

“Oh...okay. Well, you’re welcome.” She sat down at the other end, a little stiff. Back straight, head up. Impeccable posture that was all wrong for a relaxing day on the couch.

“Boss?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh.” She managed to meet his eyes for about a second before she started nervously undoing her hair. Pretending to just comb through it with her fingers when really she was using it to hide like the giant baby she was. “I’m sorry, I just --”

“I can go back to the floor, if that’s --”   


“No! No, it’s…” Cass sighed. This was something straight out of nearly every teen romance movie she’d ever done. It should be easy, but life was surprisingly difficult without a script. “I’m sorry. I guess I just still feel awkward and embarrassed.”

“Oh.”

“I know it’s stupid, I just --”

“I’m embarrassed, too.”

She peeked over at him but his attention was on the screen. The big concert scene where ‘Corny and the Mermaids’ somehow beat the competition. Not exactly fine cinema, but yeah, five eighteen year olds in bikinis were bound to draw the eye.

“You are?”

“Sure. I mean, I kinda made an idiot outta myself, right? Trying to save you from your own boyfriend or whatever.” He shook his head, “I didn’t even do a good job at it.”   


“Oh.” Yeah, that had probably been pretty bad from his end as well now that she was really thinking about it.

“I mean, I don’t get it.” He startled her by taking her hand and running his thumb across the bruises wrapped around her wrist, a thoughtful frown on his face. “I really don’t… but if that’s your thing, more power to you, I guess.”

For some reason, having MacCready look at her bruise like that took all the therapeutic value right out of it. She pulled her hand back and cradled it with the other. “It’s… it’s not my thing.”

His frown deepened. “Explain.”

“I… it’s complicated.”

“Is that fucking asshole making you do that shit?”

It was the most she’d ever heard him cuss that he still had all his clothes on and she stared at him. “N-no.”

"Yeah, okay." He scoffed at her, “Real quality acting there, Miss Starlet. I'm totally convinced.”

Cass huffed. That’s what people never understood about the truth. Sometimes it didn’t sound like the truth at all. “I’m not lying.”

“Sure.”

He went back to staring at her former self on screen. Clenching his jaw. Angry. He was angry. At her?

“It’s… have you ever heard of absolution?”

“No.”

“Well, it means earning forgiveness. Forgiveness through sacrifice and… I’m - I’m looking for it. This helps me get there. That’s my thing. Penitence.”

His attention came back to her, “Penitence?”

“It’s all my fault, you see. I'm sure you've heard by now that my son was the leader of the Institute, right?"

"Right."

"I figured. It was probably silly of me to think you'd never find out. It’s… do you know how the Institute viewed the surface world?”

“No.”

“As a laboratory. The people were just rats for them to do experiments on. There’s this settlement to the east called Warwick Homestead. I helped clear out a bunch of super mutants for them with Preston. This was early on. Before Christmas. The Warwick family, Roger and June, their kids Janey and Wally, and two farmhands. That’s what was there at the start. Now it’s got… I dunno. At least five or six families. It’s nice. Right by the sea. Close to the Atom Cats.”

“When I first got into the Institute, they didn’t see me as a threat. Shaun was excited I was there. Happy to show things off. He let me walk around as I pleased, meet everyone, learn about what they did. One of the things I learned was that almost a year before I even woke up, they’d replaced Roger with a synth replicant.”

“Sh-shoot. Nobody noticed?”

“His kids did. They said suddenly their dad was nice and stopped being an alcoholic. That he stopped beating them.”

“Oh, well… I mean, it kinda seems like they got that one right, then.”

“The scientist in charge of the experiment felt sorry for Wally for having to live on the surface. He wanted him to have a better life, I guess. He'd had the synth programmed to really care about being a good dad.”

“What was the experiment?”

“Bio-engineered crops. Stuff that would be able to resist more radiation and retain a higher nutritional value.”

“That… also sounds good?”

“Sure. Sure, it all sounded really good, except the last step of the experiment.”

“Which was?”

“To eradicate all evidence that an experiment ever took place.”

“Eradicate?”

“At the end of the experiment, the orders were to pull the synth, pull the crops, kill everyone else and burn it all to the ground.”

“Holy crap.”

“Janey and Wally, June, Bill, Cedric… all gone. They would’ve been wiped out by coursers like they were nothing. Less than nothing.”

“So what happened?”

“Well… I blew up the Institute, of course.”

“No, I mean, what happened with the synth and all?”

“Oh.” She gave him a half smile, “That was kinda the saddest part. He’d actually grown to love his family. I went there, after, to confront him and either put him down or offer to wipe him and get him out of the Commonwealth, but he begged me to let him stay. Said he couldn’t imagine life without June. Wanted to see his kids grow up. He said he’d do anything. He’d even admit to them that he was a synth and start fresh if that’s what it took.”

“Did you let him stay?”

“Yeah. I did. I think June had already figured it out anyway. She was oddly protective of him. I’m pretty sure she liked the new and improved Roger over the old one.”

“And it all worked out? He didn’t go nuts and murder everybody?”

“It all worked out. They’re still there. I had to get rid of one of their farmhands. He had serious suspicions and I’m pretty sure he had the hots for June on top of it. Couldn’t be reasoned with.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully and looked at him, “Actually, I tracked his buddy down to Goodneighbor. He was there trying to hire a merc to come put Roger down.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, if you’d been there, it could’ve been you.” The emptiness in her eyes got darker for a moment, “Then I would have had to put you down, too.”

“Uh…”

“That’s just one experiment, Mac. Just one. They’d been at it for  _ sixty years. _ People lost their families, entire communities were wiped out. So much pain and death and fear and…”

“Yeah, but you stopped them. You saved everybody.”

“Not everybody. God only knows how many people died before I put an end to it.”   


“Wait, wait, wait. Are you carrying all that? Seriously? What the Institute did, especially what they did while  _ you were frozen, _ isn’t on you! That’s crazy!”

“They used my baby’s DNA to create the Gen-3s. All of them.”

“But --”

“I couldn’t… I can’t get pregnant and stay pregnant on my own. Ben and I spent ten years and every single penny I made from those stupid movies for just one baby. Millions of dollars. Because we just had to have a kid of our own.”

“Boss…”

“If we’d just accepted it. Moved on from the idea. Gotten another damn dog or… something, Vault 111 would have been basically useless to them. They would have just had us and our neighbors to harvest from and… well, everyone in Sanctuary Hills was either a veteran or active service, so it would not have gone well for them. They took Shaun because he was little and helpless and couldn’t fight back. And it was my fault he existed in the first place.”

“Cass...”

“So, no, pain is not my  _ thing. _ It’s never been… I’ve never… Benji and I, we’d… and he would’ve never,  _ ever…” _

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. It’s  _ not okay! _ I’m still here! I’m still walking around like some asshole, alive and well and… where’s Arturo’s wife, huh? Or Dez’s husband. All the people who perished during Broken Mask. Everybody who died in the vault. Captain Avery. Every innocent life that got shattered by those idiots in Covenant. Tinker’s whole family. The entire population of University Point! My sweet Benji. It’s not  _ fair! _ It’s not  _ right!  _ All those people. They’re just gone. They’re gone and I can’t bring them back and it’s  _ my fault _ and everybody acts like I’m some  _ big hero _ just because I  _ finally  _ showed up and stopped my son from --”

“Okay. Stop.” Mac grabbed her and she suddenly found herself horizontal, hyperventilating on his thigh while he held her hand and rubbed her head. “You’ve gotta stop. Calm down. Breathe nice and slow, okay?”

She wanted to. She really did, but it felt like her heart was trying to explode out her chest and she was drowning.

His hand carefully settled over her mouth and nose. “It’s alright. This will help. I’m not trying to smother you or anything, okay? My wife taught me how to do this and she was super smart, so… if you can’t trust me, you can definitely trust her.”

Mac wished to God Lucy were here. She’d know exactly what to say and what to do. Have Cass feeling right as rain in no time. He waited for her breathing to quiet and then moved his hand away from her mouth.

“Better?” She just nodded and made no attempt to move so he switched back to holding her hand while he rubbed her head. “Listen, your whole situation is unique and all, but… I get it. I get what it feels like to have guilt eat at you all the time. I uh, well, you know about Duncan already, but his mother was… we were married.”

“Her name was Lucy. She was, well, I guess you could call us childhood sweethearts. Grew up together. I aged out of Lamplight before she did, so she never knew I became a mercenary. By the time we met up again, I knew for sure I wanted to marry her. I didn’t want her to know the kind of man I’d become. I told her I was a soldier. The first of many lies. She went to work at this clinic in Rivet City and then decided to be a traveling medic so I tagged along as her guard.”

“We had to keep everything on the down-low. I already had a lot of enemies and I didn’t want to chance her getting caught up in that. I told her we had to pretend because it put her at a higher risk of kidnapping if people knew she had a husband to ransom her to and she bought it. She always bought it. I could have told her up was down and she never would’ve questioned it.”

“Duncan was barely a year old when she died. We made the mistake of holing up in a metro station one night. We didn't know that the place was infested with ferals. They were on her before I could even fire a shot. Ripped her apart right in front of me. There was nothing I could do. Took everything I had to escape with Duncan in my arms. Maybe it would have been better if we'd died there with her. I dunno.”

Cass shook her head and held his hand tighter.

“Thing is, it was my fault. One hundred percent. Underworld wasn’t that far away, I just didn’t feel like paying to stay at the hotel there. We were both tired and I got lazy. It just… totally my fault. Just no getting around it. Now Duncan doesn’t have a mom and the world lost out on having Lucy in it and I think about it everyday. It takes effort to get up every morning and keep going when a part of me still wishes we’d just all gone out together. I feel like I left half my heart down in that stupid metro. I don’t know if that’ll ever go away.”

“I don’t know if your pain will ever go away, either, but I know if you give up, you’ll never find out. You’ll miss out on stuff. If I’d just… well… I would’ve missed Duncan’s first real word. His first steps. Would’ve missed out on coming up here and meeting you. Those are good things. Who knows what’s coming around the corner, right? Maybe more good things. Maybe more  _ great _ things, even."

“You’ve got good things to look forward to, too, Cass. It’s hard when you’re stuck down in it to see, but you do. Plus, you’re helping people.  _ So _ many people. Like… seriously,  _ ridiculous _ amounts of idiots depend on you for their lives. You make people happy just by existing. Dottie and Jim went nuts when you showed up, remember? Your Minutemen all seem to really like you. People see you coming and are actually  _ excited. _ That’s nuts. You think people see Maxson coming and get amped? No. No, they do not.”

She giggled just a little and he grinned.

“They see that jerk coming and go ‘oh, no, not this asshole again’.”

The giggling grew and he finally let his hand rest on her head. “You’re gonna be alright. I can tell. This is just a bump in the road. No big deal. You’re going to get through it and be even more awesome on the other side.”

Cass sniffled and slowly sat up, wiping at her face with her sleeve. “Are you sure you’re twenty-two?”

“Pretty sure. Why?”   


“Because you have an unusual amount of wisdom for someone your age.”

“Oh… well, Lucy always said I was an old soul. Told me I was 'born forty'. I always just kinda thought that was her way of telling me to stop being so bossy though.”

She chuckled, “What was Duncan’s first word?”

“Uh… well…” Mac grimaced, “‘Fuck.’ His first word was ‘fuck’.”

“Oh, _ no.” _

“Yeah… I swear I could hear Lucy yelling at me all the way from heaven over that one.”

“Is that why you try so hard to not cuss?”

He shrugged, “Yeah. I made a promise to Duncan after that. A promise to clean up my act and to be a better person. It’s sort of a work in progress.”

“Life usually is.” She smiled at him and wondered why just talking with him made her feel just as clean as anything Deacon had done to date. Then the silence started to get to her and she cleared her throat. “It’s um… movie’s over.”

“Oh. Yeah. Dang. Missed the ending.”

“Corny saved the beach. Again.”

“Spoilers, man! Jeez.”


	9. Development Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Development Hell (n): Term for films mired in pre-production delays and issues.

Mac wasn’t really used to staying in one place for too long. Sure, he’d been stuck in Goodneighbor for three months, but he’d still wandered around the town. Still occasionally snuck out to pick up a quick job here and there. He’d never been cooped up in one building before though. Even when Lucy’d had Duncan, they’d been in Rivet City and he’d been able to leave them in the care of professionals while he kept busy running jobs and the like.

Cass was officially into day five of her wallowing, or whatever it was, following her breakup with Hancock. Thus far she showed no signs of wanting to leave any time soon.  As nice as it was seeing her in cute dresses and casual sweaters all the time, and it definitely was, he was starting to go a little stir crazy.

“Hey, Cass?”

“Hmm?” She was happily curled up on the sofa with a magazine. Acting completely enthralled by the articles as though she hadn’t already read them a million times.

“I kinda want some noodles. You want some noodles?”

“Sure, honey. Codsworth can --”

“No, no, I mean Takahashi’s noodles.”

“Oh.” She glanced up at him and then at the door with a nervous sort of look. “Well…”

“I can go get them.”

“Oh!” The relief on her face was transparent. “Oh, yes, then. That would... yes. Tell him they’re for me. I have an open tab.”

“Okay! One bowl of Taka’s finest, coming right up!”

“Thanks, Mac.”

“No problem.”

“Would you take Dogmeat out with you?”

“Sure.”

He was out the door less than a minute later, breathing in the fresh air like it totally didn’t stink of too many people too close together and that weird, moldy smell Diamond City always seemed to have. Dogmeat was off like a shot and he chuckled. Guess he wasn’t the only one bored out of his mind.

There was quite a crowd around Power Noodles, so Mac decided to do some browsing first for a bit. Wait until the rush died down. He made it through yet another suspicious interrogation with Myrna, some friendly chitchat with Arturo and was on his way to aggravate Moe when he felt eyes on his back.

Pretending like he didn’t wasn’t hard. He just detoured a bit, casually sat on a nearby bench, slapped some sunglasses on and took a little smoke break. Surveying the market just looked like casual interest and he finally realized the feeling was coming from over by Doctor Sun’s. Some city guard in sunglasses was staring a hole through his head.

He narrowed his eyes a little and realized the black hair on the man’s head was a wig. He had a familiar build and height though, and an impossible to forget smirk on his face.

Deacon.

Asshole was a guard? That explained the raider-like qualities then. From his own personal dealings with the DC goon squad, most of them were just slightly better dressed versions of the scum they took such great pride in keeping out of the city.

Cass sure had strange tastes in men. The ghoul mayor of the Commonwealth’s city of sin and a guard from the most stuck up place Mac had ever found in all his travels up and down the east coast… and him? Maybe?

Just weird.

Not that she seemed interested anymore. Their time together thus far had been friendly but not the kinda friendly he’d been hoping for. Of course, she was in some kind of a mourning period and he’d been doing his utmost to not push things or be overly aggressive with his interest.  Just didn’t feel like the right time, yet.

Anyway, it’s not like having a robot chaperone constantly hovering around you made setting a mood easy. Codsworth seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense when things were about to turn interesting. It would have been supremely irritating had the Mister Handy not usually had snacks on hand when he did it.

He turned his head and stared directly at Deacon from across the way. The bastard had the audacity to actually wave cheerfully at him and he gave him the finger in response. It seemed to amuse him, but he kept his distance.

Mac was so focused on glaring at him he barely even noticed when somebody joined him on the bench.

“So, what’s the story here? You and Deacon having a staring contest or something?”

He finally blinked and glanced over. A dark-haired girl in a red leather duster with a newsboy cap on her head was looking at him. Cute. Kinda seemed familiar.

“Do I know you?”

“You don’t remember me?”

“Nope.”

“Well that’s different. Most people remember me.”

He just raised an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Piper Wright. Publick Occurrences.”

“Oh, the reporter.”

“Right! You do remember!”

“Nope.”

“Jeez.” She huffed, “I met you a couple of years ago when you were escorting that doctor. Lucy. Any of this ringing any bells? My little sister had broken her arm. Doctor Sun was out and --”   


Oh, right. “And you didn’t want to use a Stimpak on your own because you were afraid it would set wrong. I remember.” He definitely remembered leaving their house with his pockets crammed full of candy. He'd never met somebody with such a hard-on for sugar before.

“Right! Lucy spiffed her right back up. Only charged me for the stim. She was really nice.”

“Yeah.”

“I wish she’d stuck around. Sun’s still a jerk, and Doc Crocker went  _ bananas. _ Diamond City could sure use a quality doctor like that.”

He sighed, “Yeah.” They'd come up this way following the path her mentor from Rivet City, Dr. Li, had left. Trying to find a way to contact the Institute since they seemed to have a thing for collecting eggheads. Lucy had been a prodigy her whole life. Particularly gifted in chemistry and medicine. The cutest genius Mac had ever seen, that was for damn sure. She'd have been a shoe-in. Then they'd heard a few too many bad things about them and decided to hightail it back home.

“So where is she?”

“Died.”

“Oh… oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I remember you guys seemed close.”

“We were married.” No harm in people knowing now, right? It’s not like they could kidnap or hurt somebody who was already dead.

_ “Married!? She _ married  _ you?” _

He glared at her but she didn’t seem to notice how fucking rude she was being. “Yeah. She did.”

“Huh.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Interesting… so, what’s going on with you and Deacon?”

“What do you mean?”

“He usually bolts when his cover’s been blown, but it seems like he actually wanted you to notice him.”

“His cover?”

“Yeah. He’s not actually Diamond City security, you know. He’s a spy for the Railroad. Or was a spy? I mean, they’re out in the open now, so I dunno if that’s still his job anymore. It’s not like you can ever get a straight answer outta him. I doubt even Blue can manage that.”

He'd known he was Railroad, but a spy? An actual spy? Like James Bond? He'd always just thought that was a made up thing for movies. “Blue?”

“Cass Jones. General of the Minutemen."

“Oh.”

“So what’d you do? Spit in his oatmeal? Pee in his Nuka? Come on, what’s the deal?”

“Why do you care?”

“Cause whatever is going on probably involves Blue and if it concerns Blue, then it concerns me. She’s my friend.”

He flicked his cigarette and tilted his head, “Your friend, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why haven’t you stopped by to see her yet?”

“Wait, she’s home? She’s home  _ right now?” _

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t… how long has she been there?”

He shrugged, “Since… Friday?”

“Wha? That little stinker! I had no idea!”

“Hmm.”

“Is she sick or something? She usually never stays here that long.”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“Oh, I get it. So you’re escorting her now?”

“Yup.”

“Huh. So is that your thing? You only escort pretty ladies or whatever?”

“Not really.”

“Just luck then, hmm?” She turned to stare at Deacon staring at them. “Well, that explains Deacon then.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s crazy protective of her. Probably mad you’re with her, or jealous or whatever. She won’t take him on missions anymore. They used to be inseparable.”

Heh. Mac smirked to himself for a moment and then went back to his usual disinterested expression when she looked at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I dunno what happened there, but once she got to the Institute, that was it. She stopped traveling with Deacon. I don’t think he ever stopped traveling with her, though.”

He scowled at that. “Friggin’ creeper.”

“Right? That’s exactly what I said! Nicky said to leave it alone though.”

“Nicky?”

“Nick Valentine. The detective. He’s her other best friend.”

_ “Other _ best friend? So you’re her best friend, too?”

“Yup.”

“You should probably go visit her then, right?”

“You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

Piper grinned and he was kind of shocked at how cute she actually was. When her mouth wasn’t moving, anyway.

“I bet she likes you. She always likes sassy assholes.”

Okay, so maybe Cass  _ did _ have a type. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” She stood and stretched, trying way too hard to be casual. “Some free advice? Don’t ever let yourself be alone with him.”

Her voice had a whole different tone to it. Low, quiet, serious. Mac frowned, “Why not?”

“He’s dangerous.”

He scoffed, “I’m dangerous.”

“No, he’s different. You’re a merc, right? So you’re like… yao guai dangerous. Deacon is  _ radstorm _ dangerous. It’s a whole other level.”

“Hmph.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to go see Blue.” She took two steps then turned back around, “Hey, what’s your name, anyway?”

“MacCready.”

“MacCready what?”

“Just MacCready.”

“Hmm. Alright then,  _ Just MacCready. _ Nice meeting you for the second time.”

He raised a hand and gave her a single wave. “Yup.”

Once Piper left, he returned to staring at Deacon. Guy hadn't so much as moved a muscle. Fucking weirdo.

As he was doing his utmost to make the other man's head explode with his mind (saw it on a holo once), his attention finally got diverted by a familiar redhead walking into the city. He frowned to himself. What the hell was Fahrenheit doing here?

Mac watched her and her small posse of Watchmen. All humans, he noted. They weren't visibly armed but that didn't mean anything. There were a million places you could stash a weapon. Anyway there was no way in hell they'd walked here from Goodneighbor without protection.

They took a right and made their way to the lift that went to the mayor's office.

Odd.

He stood and watched as they ascended, a nervous feeling growing in his stomach. Whatever was about to happen couldn't possibly be good. Goodneighbor had no business with Diamond City and vice versa. Hadn’t for years. Everybody knew that. Mac had just noticed Deacon was no longer at his post when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, kid."

He rolled his eyes. Of course. He didn't bother turning around. "What do you want, Deacon?"

"You should get up there."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"Because Ellie's probably gonna need backup and I'm busy getting Valentine."

"What?" He jumped suddenly at the stinging pain in his ass from a smack and whirled around, growling at the man. "The f-frick was that!"

"Motivation. Now go."

Mac grumbled but headed for the lift, "I don't work for you,  _ jerk." _

He was still debating whether this was just Deacon screwing with him when he hit the button and frowned. Nothing happened. No matter how many times he pushed it. Someone had disabled it. He backed up and tried to get a look at what was going on but all he could see was the reflection of the sky in the large glass windows.

Fuck.

Last time he'd been here with Lucy, she'd wanted to ask the mayor about the Institute, but had been terrified of taking the lift. A guard had told them there was an elevator available and they'd used that instead. He double-backed and headed for the security office just inside the gate.

By the time he reached the mayor's office, he could sense threats had already been made. Unspoken or otherwise.

A pretty little brunette was bravely facing down Fahrenheit and her gang. Vaguely familiar. Her knuckles were white around the clipboard she had clutched to her chest though. Definitely scared. She had some kind of fancy ribbon pinned to her vest, but otherwise looked like any other soft DC girl.

This must be Ellie, then.

She took a deep breath and went for an intimidating look that completely missed the mark and just made her look even more like a terrified substitute school teacher.

"While Diamond City has been looking forward to reopening official communications with Goodneighbor, this is not what we had in mind."

"Relax, little queen. We're not here to start trouble."

Ellie scowled, "You know, that would be a lot more convincing if you didn't come in here with a bunch of thugs behind you."

"We're just here for information."

"So go ask her yourself. If Cass wants to talk to you, then she will. Anyway, we do things a little differently than the previous administration. We don't keep tabs on our citizens. I couldn't tell you anything even if I wanted to because  _ I don't know. _ I didn't even know she was in town."

"You're the mayor and you didn't realize the Minutemen general was in residence?"

"No, I did not! Because unlike  _ some _ mayors, I actually work!"

Mac snorted quietly. Deacon was clearly worried over nothing. This one might not look like much, but she was tough.

He finally caught her eye and nodded, "Hey, boss. Just here for my shift."

She frowned a little but played along. Probably just grateful for any ally by this point. "Oh, good. Right on time."

Fahrenheit was glaring daggers at him as he calmly took up a position just behind Ellie. He smiled at her and otherwise stayed silent. His presence was all the threat he needed. She knew Cass would definitely hear all about this little incident from him. Should be incentive enough to behave.

"MacCready."

"Fahrenheit."

"So you're working for Perkins now?"

He grinned nice and sharp, "What can I say? Taking care of pretty ladies is my specialty."

Ellie went a little pink and he almost laughed. Still, having him at her back seemed to bolster her courage a bit.

"Miss Fahrenheit, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. I have far too much work to get done to continue this conversation."

She seemed all too willing to camp out here indefinitely and shrugged. "All I'm asking is for someone to ask Cass to meet us outside."

Mac scowled. Oh, sure. Why not? Just send her outside the gates and the security and whatnot. Nothing suspicious about that at all.

"Again, if you wish to speak to Cass, nobody here is going to stop you. Her home is right next to Commonwealth Surplus. Just past Power Noodles."

Ah, fuck. Cass's noodles. He'd totally forgotten.

Fahrenheit was about to speak when the lift rumbled to life and descended. She turned to glare at one of her lackeys. "Why is that running?"

"I dunno, boss."

"Excuse me! Did you actually  _ do something _ to my lift!?"

Ellie looked ready to pop off finally and Mac took great amusement at how none of the men with Fahr would actually look her in the eye anymore. School teacher vibes or not, she was pretty effective once she got mad enough to forget to be afraid.

A disgruntled looking Nick Valentine and a practically gleeful Deacon finally arrived and the detective's expression only grew darker as he took in the scene. The moment the lift docked, he stormed off it, shouldered past the muscle and stood between Ellie and Fahr, leaning on the desk.

"Molly --"

"It's Fahrenheit now."

He didn't seem to hear her. "-- I really hope this isn't what it looks like or I'm going to be awfully disappointed in you…  _ and _ John."

"What's it look like?"

"Like the Mayor of Goodneighbor's right hand woman is up here trying to strong arm the Mayor of Diamond City over something as stupid as a lover's spat."

She shrugged, "It's a little more complicated than that."

"Is it? Well then, do tell."

"Hancock needs Cass to come home. He's worried about her. Just wants to talk things out, nice and calm, like adults."

"M'hmm."

"I was just asking the mayor here, in the interest of keeping things pleasant between our two settlements, for a little assistance."

"Why not just go talk to Cass yourself? Cut out the middleman altogether."

Mac snorted, "Probably because the last time she saw her, Fahr was chasing her out of Goodneighbor."

Nick looked back at him and cocked an eyebrow, "That so?"

"That's not how it went --"

"Yeah, I watched it happen myself."

Deacon scowled at him, "And you didn't intervene?"

He scowled back, "Wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion."

"Hmph."

"I wasn't chasing her. I was just trying to get her to talk to Hancock."

Oh, bullshit. Fucking goddamn bullshit. "So the yelling and the cursing and whatever, that's just how you usually talk to her?"

Nick glanced back at him again, interest clearly written on his face. "Yelling and cursing?"

"Yup. Cass barely got away."

He turned his head back to Fahr and clucked his tongue. "Molly… for shame. Still picking on kids littler than you?"

"That's not --"

"I thought you'd have learned by now. Maybe I'll have to stop by the State House myself. Have a little talk with your Pops. Just like the old days."

Was Fahrenheit blushing? No. Surely not.

"That's not… that won't be necessary. We'll go."

"That's a fine idea."

She pulled an envelope out of her back pocket and held it out to Ellie. "Can you at least make sure this gets to Cass?"

"Of course."

"Then I guess we're done here."

“Take the elevator.” The mayor’s voice was frosty. Clearly she wanted them out of her city as fast as humanly possible.

No one spoke until the Goodneighbor crew disappeared behind the sliding doors. Nick rubbed at his head as if he were still capable of headaches.

“This is why I keep saying you need a secretary.”

“Nick --”

“And _ where are your guards?” _

“It’s almost time for dinner. I sent them to --”

“You send  _ one. _ Just one to get the food. The rest of ‘em can wait.”

“But --”

“No buts!”

She sighed, “Fine… so does anybody want to clue me in on what’s going on?”

Valentine shrugged, “Private business.”

“They kinda made it my business, Nick.”

“Yeah… alright. Cass and Hancock are done. Looks like one side is a little more done than the other. It happens.”

“Except usually one side doesn’t command an army and the other doesn’t… well, also command an army.”

“Right.”

Deacon finally spoke up, “Could be worse. Maxson was pretty interested in her. Imagine  _ that _ breakup.”

Mac was unable to stop himself and wrinkled his nose. The idea of Arthur Maxson anywhere near Cass made him want to punch the guy. Kinda like whenever he thought of Deacon being near her.

“I’ll pass on that.” Ellie held up the letter, “Who wants to deliver this to Cass?”

“I’ll take it.” He stepped forward and accepted the envelope. “I’m supposed to be getting her noodles right now.”

“Oh, so you work for her?”

“Yup. RJ MacCready.”

She shook his hand, “Ellie Perkins. Have we met?”

“I was here a few years ago.”

Valentine nodded, “Remember? Mac and his wife wanted to know how to get in contact with the Institute.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh! Right! Gosh… I’d almost forgotten about that.”

How the heck had Valentine figured out they'd been married? Mac stared at the synth thoughtfully for a moment before he realized they were  _ all _ staring back at him like he was nuts. He was glad he still had his shades on and rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ll just be heading out.”

“Say hi to Cass for me.”

“Will do.” He hopped onto the lift and took in the view for a moment. Unfortunately that gave Deacon the perfect opportunity to hop on behind him.

“I’ll ride down with you, kid.”

“I’d really prefer if --”

Deacon hit the button and the lift lurched to life while he waved at Nick and Ellie. “Bye, you two! Remember, no hanky panky while the mayor’s on duty! It’s unprofessional. What would your constituents think?”

Alright, the guy was a jerk, but it  _ was _ sorta funny how bright red Ellie went and the way Valentine immediately began sputtering. Mac was pretty sure he’d be blushing, too, if he’d actually been capable of such a thing.

They were barely halfway down when Deacon held his hand out. “Alright. You did good in there. Now gimme the letter.”

“What? No. It’s not for you.”

“This isn’t me asking. This is me telling. Give me the letter.” He lunged and tried to snatch it away.

Mac held it out as far as he possibly could, “What is your problem, man? It’s addressed to Cass.”

“Yes, I had noticed that. Now fork it over.”

“No!”

“Mac, I swear to God --”

“You can swear to whoever the hell you want, but I’m not giving you this letter.”

“You’ve got about two seconds before --”

He didn’t bother listening to the rest. The lift was only maybe six feet above it’s dock. Mac vaulted over the edge and landed heavily on the catwalk.

“Mac!”

He paused long enough to give him the finger and then took off, sprinting to Cass’s as fast as he possibly could and slipping the letter under the door. Deacon had just managed to reach the edge of the Marketplace and Mac acknowledged his scowl with a vicious grin before heading over to finally grab some noodles.

Fucker could pout all he wanted. Mac wasn’t going to let him manipulate her while he was around. Even if it meant she ended up back with Hancock. He didn’t even care. Anybody was better than Deacon.

Cass and Piper were sitting at the kitchen table when he let himself in. Whatever conversation they’d been having immediately ground to a halt. Piper’s cheeks were slowly turning the same shade as her coat and Cass looked weirdly smug for her. He decided to ignore it and set a serving of noodles down in front of each woman.

“Ladies.”

Piper went even more red and Cass giggled at him, batting her eyes. “What a gentleman. So thoughtful to bring dinner for our guest! Don’t you think he’s  _ such _ a gentleman, Piper?”

“M'hmm.”

The reporter seemed uncharacteristically quiet. Mac felt like there was something very weird happening but decided to ignore it. He set his own noodles down and then went and retrieved the letter still on the floor. His first instinct said to immediately hand it over, but Piper was kind of known for being the nosiest person on the planet. Cass might not be ready to share this particular incident just yet, so he pocketed it for now.

“Oh, what’s that? Did you drop something?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing. You should eat your noodles while they’re hot.”

She smiled brilliantly at him as he sat down. “Thank you, Mac. You’re always  _ so _ considerate. You know, it’s _so_ hard to find men nowadays who really know how to treat a lady. Wouldn’t you agree, Piper?”

“M'hmm.” She was eating her noodles so fast Mac was actually a little worried she’d choke.

“What took you so long, honey?” Cass seemed to have finally given up on including Piper in the conversation.

“Just a little excitement at the mayor’s office. Some thugs tried to muscle her around. I helped take care of it.”

“You did? So _helpful!_ Piper, don’t you think --”

“Thugs in the mayor’s office?” The reporter finally looked directly at him with narrowed eyes. “What kinda thugs?”

Ah, hell… well, she was bound to find out sooner or later, right? He shrugged, “I dunno. Valentine ran ‘em off.”

“Well, that does sound like Nick.”

“Blue, I gotta go!”

“Of course, darling. Duty calls.” They watched her bolt out the door. Cass went back to eating, happily humming to herself. That same weird proud look on her face had only gotten worse.

Mac frowned, “Alright, what’d you do?”

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’re up to something. Or you did something. So what’d you do?”

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just had an idea a few weeks ago, and finally got confirmation on it, so… I’m feeling rather pleased with myself.”

“What was the idea?”

Her head tilted, “What do you think of Piper?”

“Just not gonna answer at all, huh?”

“I’ll answer if you answer first.”

“Okay.” He took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully. “She’s alright, I guess.”

“Just alright?”

“I dunno. She talks a lot --”

“So do I.”

“-- and she’s always meddling in people’s lives --”

“So do I.”

He finally paused, “Why do you care what I think of Piper?”

“Do you think she’s nice?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Funny?”

“Unintentionally? Sure. Intentionally? Eh.” He tilted his hand back and forth.

“Pretty?”

“I…” Oh, okay. Now he saw where this was going. “I guess. Never really thought about it.”

“Well, she thinks you’re  _ very _ cute.”

Fuck. “Cass, we talked about this. I’m not looking for --”

“I know, I know. You aren’t looking for a relationship right now.”

“Right.” Not with Piper, anyway.   


“I just think the two of you would be  _ wonderfully _ compatible.”

“M’hmm.” He went back to his noodles.

“She told me a lot about Lucy.”

Mac almost dropped his chopsticks and covered the slip by setting them aside. “Oh, yeah?”

“Said she was a genius.”

“Yeah, she was.”

“And beautiful.”

“Yup.”

The sparkle in her eyes dimmed a little. “And… you don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

They ate in awkward silence for a few moments. Even when Codsworth appeared to take Piper’s bowl to the trash, he stayed quiet, too. It was like all the fun had suddenly been sucked right out of her home.

“She was lucky.”

Mac looked up, “What?”

“Your wife. It’s clear that you still care for her very deeply. I bet you were a really great husband, so… she was lucky.”

“Oh.” He looked back down at his empty bowl. “Thanks, but… if I’d been a good husband, she’d still be alive.”

“That’s not true.” Cass covered his clenched fist with her hand. “You know that’s not true. My Benji? He was the  _ best, _ okay? The bee’s knees, crème de la crème, tip of the top, best husband in the whole wide world. He still couldn’t save us from what happened. I know he would’ve if he could have, but he just couldn’t. Sometimes… sometimes life just knocks you flat on your ass and there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter how much you want to.”

He didn’t say anything but relaxed his hand and held onto hers.

“He fought back, you know. That’s why they killed him. Waking up from cryostasis is so disorienting. Everything hurts and your body doesn’t listen to anything you tell it to do. Pins and needles all over. When my pod opened, I fell right onto the floor and couldn’t get up no matter how hard I tried for almost five minutes. But Benji  _ fought back. _ I watched him. They were trying to take Shaun and somehow, he just wouldn’t let go. He didn’t give up. Just like you didn’t give up. You grabbed your son and saved him and I know, as a mother and a wife, I _ know  _ Lucy was happy and grateful that you did. So, yes, Mac, you were a good husband and she was lucky to have you.”

He stared at her until she got weirdly wobbly and finally realized he had tears in his eyes. His friends back home had told him it wasn’t his fault and that he’d done all he could, but their reassurances hadn’t done much to help him from feeling like a failure. Cass though, she got it. She knew exactly what being in a situation like that felt like. He still wanted to go find a dark place to hide and cry for a few days, but his heart felt lighter somehow.

“Thanks, Cass.” Completely inadequate but it was all he could manage to get out.

“You’re welcome.” Her eyes were swimming with tears, too, but she still smiled at him. “And I’m sorry I pushed with the Piper thing. She just came in here all flustered and cute. It was impossible to resist.”

Mac chuckled, “Nah, it’s fine. I appreciate the thought, I guess.”

“So what really happened in the mayor’s office? And why were you there, exactly?”

“Oh...well…” He reluctantly pulled the envelope from his pocket and set it in front of her. “Fahrenheit showed up. She apparently wanted Ellie to make you come outside the city to  _ talk, _ quote unquote. When Ellie told her that wasn’t how Diamond City worked, she got a bit frustrated.”

Cass pulled her hand away from his and put both of hers in her lap, staring down at the letter like it was going to bite her. “Did anybody get hurt?”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that. Just a lot of hot air. I showed up and took point, stared ‘em down real good. Seemed to keep things on the level. Ellie says hi, by the way.”

“Oh. Oh, good. That’s… I’d hate for Ellie to… just on my account, and…” She went quiet and just kept staring at the letter.

Mac watched her watching it for a solid minute before he spoke, “You gonna open it?”

“I suppose I should.”

When she made no move towards it, he snorted. “I don’t think he’s actually in there, you know.”

Her head came up and she frowned at him, “What?”

“Hancock. He can’t actually jump out and get you from a piece of paper. You’re still safe here. And I doubt Fahr’s going to be welcomed back into the city any time soon, either.”

“Hmm.”

“Plus uh… Deacon’s --”

She held up a hand, “Don’t want to talk about him.”

Oh, now this was interesting. Trouble in… whatever the opposite of paradise was. That could definitely work to his advantage. “Yeah, guy’s a jerk. He tried to make me give him the letter.”

“What?”

“Yup. I don’t think he wanted you to have it.”

Her expression went completely flat and then she sighed, “I’m not… nothing he does surprises me anymore. Disappointed? Yes. Surprised? No.”

Mac smirked to himself and kept his head down so she wouldn’t notice. “You want some privacy so you can open it or…”

“No. No, I don’t think I want to deal with it right now. I’ll worry about it later.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Codsworth?”

The Mister Handy came floating over, “Mum?”

She held up the envelope, “Please keep this for me and remind me to open it before I leave.”

“Of course, Miss Cassandra.” His pincer appendage carefully took the letter and he tucked it away somewhere inside his body. “Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He took their empty bowls and left.

“Why give it to the robot?”

“Because Deacon can’t pickpocket Codsworth and this way I will definitely open it at some point instead of just stuffing it in a drawer and ignoring it.” She smiled at him, “That’s what I do, you know. I ignore things until they go away.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, it is.” She looked at the clock, “It’s early, but would you like to get our evening marathon started? We could start with  _ The Ten Commandments. _ It’s long.”

“How long?”

“Almost four hours.”

“Sh-shoot. Yeah, okay.”

“Great. Then maybe  _ Barbaras. _ Make it a theme thing.”

“Sure, Cass. That sounds good.”


	10. Swan Song

Cass sat with a bowl of popcorn in her lap and stared at the screen. She wasn’t actually watching the movie, but she felt like she was doing a reasonable job of faking it. That’s what she did, after all. She faked things.

Mac seemed into it at least. Watching him watch movies she’d seen a million times made them new again. It was fun and diverting, but not enough to get her to stop thinking about Hancock’s letter and the whole kerfuffle his crew had caused.

What could they possibly have to say to each other at this point? Why was he so adamant that she come back to Goodneighbor? Because that absolutely was why Fahr had wanted to meet her outside the city gates so bad.

If this was truly some attempt at reconciliation, attempted kidnapping was not the way to go. Just the idea of it made her want to punch somebody. It seemed beneath him, though. John didn’t chase conquests. He never had.

Then again, she’d never heard of him having a bad breakup, either. So maybe this was all new territory for him.

It was stupid though. Juvenile. Barbaric. He had to know abducting the Minutemen’s general would start a war, right? Even if she didn’t want it to, Preston would… well, he’d probably send a strongly worded but very polite letter. Ronnie, their second lieutenant, on the other hand would unleash fury the likes of which the Commonwealth had never seen. Or did he really think he was so charming that once she got there, she’d just happily fall back into his bed. Kiss kiss and make up. All’s forgiven, let’s get back to it.

Ridiculous.

The truth of the matter was, she was the one who should be seeking forgiveness. She’d used him right from the start and then got angry and… well, crazy, frankly, when he finally refused her. Cass had always known how he felt about her. Even before he’d said anything, she had eyes and a knack for reading people. She’d known perfectly well he was besotted with her. That was the main reason she’d run to him after the whole Deacon thing went belly up.

She’d just felt so unwanted. So lost and bereft. The way Deacon had stared at her in horror when she confessed to him was permanently etched in her brain. It was like he’d suddenly found her utterly repugnant. He’d actually physically pushed her away, that liar’s mouth of his running a mile a minute about how they could revisit everything in a few months. Babbling on about how she must just be  _ confused _ and they were  _ best friends _ and how very much he  _ cherished _ that. How he  _ loved _ being her  _ friend. _ How --

Cass shook her head a little and halted that whole line of thinking. Bitterness welled up within her and she choked it back down before any of it could escape. She took a deep breath and began again.

Hancock had just felt safe. A person she could feel wanted and desired and, yes, even worshiped with. Somebody who would say he loved her and mean it. Who’d call her beautiful and somehow mean that, too. Even when she deliberately kept her heart locked away, kept running from him, he’d meant everything he’d ever said to her. A comforting truth after all the lies she’d told herself and the ones Deacon had made her believe. The ones she’d wanted to believe.

Cause the thing was, she’d known better with Deacon. She really had. She’d heard all about his angelic Barbara. Just like he’d heard all about Ben. But whereas he and Ben shared a ton of qualities, her and Barbara simply didn’t. Deacon’s wife had been tall and classically beautiful. Both strong and refined. Cass was not any of those things. She was cute enough in a small sort of way, but not beautiful. Or at least she had been, once upon a time. She knew perfectly well she was always going to be someone people thought of as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘attractive’. Even as old as she was, people still tended to treat her like some kind of everlasting child.

She’d actually started to look forward to the day when she’d finally turn into a little old lady for real. Get a ton of wrinkles and age spots and just absolutely revel in them. Maybe people would finally start taking her seriously.

A man like Deacon wouldn’t be attracted to a girl like her. He craved depth in all things. Cass had been purposefully raised to be about as deep as a puddle. She wasn’t terribly smart about anything that mattered. Her mother’s idea of homeschooling was to simply let her read whatever caught her fancy and hire tutors to help her cram when it came time to take the studio school’s ridiculously easy tests, as required by law. She was pretty sure she’d only made it through law school because they were so excited to claim a movie star as a graduate. Even her high rate of success in the courtroom was really more about  _ how _ she said things, not  _ what _ she said.

She’d always been the giggly arm candy type. The bubbly little airhead who made small men feel big and dumb men feel smart. In fact, the only man who’d ever made her feel like she might actually have something worthwhile to say was Benji. Nobody else ever seemed to realize she even had a working brain under all the sugar and spice.

Given how many mistakes she’d made in the past year, she was almost certain he’d actually been wrong there.

Hancock was the intellectual type, too, regardless of his predilection for chem use. She couldn’t even count the number of times he’d gone on about topics that were so far above her head they may as well be on the moon. She usually felt like a child who’d somehow wandered into an adult conversation around him.

She could still remember him insisting she was just letting him win at chess, when no, actually. She really was just  _ that  _ bad. Checkers was more her speed. He’d thought she was deliberately trying to throw the game so they could get to bed faster, and she’d grinned and rolled with it, but it left her feeling so small and stupid. She hadn’t returned to Goodneighbor for a whole month after.

Cass wasn’t even sure why he wanted her back. She was a terrible human being, a dull conversationalist, and she didn’t even enjoy doing chems. She just did them because he did. He was a man who’d made a name for himself by being bold and daring and brilliant. She was none of those things.

Shit, Magnolia would be a better fit for him. He should just go ahead and marry her already. They’d been having sex for years, even if they both just considered it a recreational activity like tennis or whatever. If they made it official they’d be a real power couple.

“Hey, Cass?”

Know what she was? A shiny fishing lure. That was all. Tricking men around her by being flashy and superficially interesting. Then they’d swallow her on down and instead of a nice fulfilling snack, they just got a stomachache and… eventually death. Probably. She wasn’t very good with metaphors either.

“Cass?”

She should have found someone more at her level. Maybe a half dead robobrain or somebody who’d been lobotomized. A freshly wiped synth or --

“Cass!”

Mac’s voice finally cut through the noise in her head and she jumped, nearly dropping her bowl of popcorn. She blinked at him and prodded her brain until it finally rose to the occasion.

“Yes? I’m sorry, were you saying something?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair the way he did whenever he was frustrated. Great. She couldn’t even keep up with a kid. God help her.

“Yeah, I said I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh.”

“It’s important.”

“Okay.” Was this it? Was he finally going to ask for help with his son? She turned her full and undivided attention onto him. “Shoot.”

“I…” Now that he finally had her eyes on him he didn’t seem to know what to do and looked away. “I’m sorry to ask cause I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and all. I just... I gotta know. Are we done?”

“Done?”

“Yeah, it’s… I mean, we’ve been here almost a week and, uh…”

Oh. Oh, right. She’d hired him back and then immediately started this stupid cowardly hiding in her house. Codsworth called it her vacation but those were supposed to be relaxing. This one had definitely not been. She’d just gotten more and more anxious about all the problems awaiting her outside as the days ticked by.

No wonder Mac thought he was out of a job. What kind of guard did a couch potato need, really? She already had Dogmeat and Codsworth. He’d probably been worried for days that she was going to sack him any second. Goddammit.

“We’re not done.”

The relief and grateful happiness on his face made her want to go shoot herself for being such a jerk. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“Wow, that’s… I mean, I’d hoped, but…”

“You know what? We’ll head out tomorrow. I’m starting to come down with a little cabin fever myself. Finally hit Postal Square and then see where the wind takes us.”

“O-oh. Oh.” He looked away from her again and chewed the inside of his cheek, frowning at an unrepentant Yul Brynner as he argued with Charlton Heston. The big staff into a snake scene. Truly powerful cinema. Classic stuff.

Cass was a little confused at how crestfallen he seemed, but then she was often confused these days. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t... I wasn’t talking about work.”

_ “Oh.” _ It finally dawned on her what he was talking about and she averted her eyes, too. They’d been such great pals the last few days, she’d been sort of relieved that he seemed past all that. “Mac, I’m… I’m just no good for anybody right now.” She looked back at his face for a moment and then away again. His jaw was clenched and she hated seeing him so upset.

“Who says you have to be?”

“What?”

“I’m not asking you to be  _ good _ for me. I just… I thought we had a pretty good time together.”

“We did.”

“And I’m kind of in a spot where getting seriously involved with anybody is a bad idea and the usual alternative gets expensive after a while, you know?”

That hit her in the heart for some reason and she was surprised at the wave of resentment that crashed over her. “Oh, did Mags not give you a discount?”

A flush crept up his neck and into his face. “Cass…”

“So what you’re telling me is you’d just like more  _ free  _ sex? Is that it? Since I don’t charge you like a professional would, I’m at least better than nothing?”

“What!? No!”

“If you want relief, you can find it perfectly well with your own damn hands. You don’t need mine.”

“Cass, that is  _ not  _ what --”

“Or you could go to the Dugout right now and find some pretty little thing even dumber than me who’d be willing to take a tumble. You’re handsome and charming when you want to be. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Sure it’s not.”

_ “I like you, okay!?” _

What had to be the world’s most uncomfortable silence settled in around them. Cass stared at him in shock until he finally managed to meet her gaze. His eyes were so open and honest and she felt like a monster again. She looked away.

Mac sighed, “I like you. I do. I know you’re probably going to tell me I’m crazy or whatever, but that won’t change how I feel.” He shrugged, “I know you’re not in a good place and neither am I, but… I guess I was kinda hoping maybe you liked me, too.”

Cass let herself breathe for a moment. Even if she couldn’t give him what he wanted, he was still a sweetheart. She still wanted to keep the friendship. Had to be gentle here.

“Honey, I just don’t know if you’re thinking about this clearly. I am the absolute worst version of myself right now. You’re just… you're really far too clever to like somebody like me.”

“Thanks. That’s not condescending at all.”

Tears were threatening to spill over. “I’m not--”

“You know, just because your head’s all screwed up doesn’t mean everybody’s is. I know how I feel and I know who I like and it’s you so… whatever.” He shook his head, “Whatever.”

“Mac…”

He stood up, “I’m gonna take a shower and hit the hay. Goodnight, boss.”

Boss. Not Cass anymore. Just boss. She nodded, “Okay.”

She stared vacantly at her popcorn and listened to him stomp up the stairs. The angry sort of way he threw his stuff around, the sound of him stomping back downstairs. She jumped a bit when he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

This was awful. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t, right? Either way, she’d ruined things with Mac. It seemed like that’s all she did lately.

“Oh! Mum!” Codsworth was suddenly in front of her, dabbing at her face with a handkerchief. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m…” She was crying. How’d she missed that?

“Yes, yes, I know. The plague of the firstborns is very sad. _ Poor _ Nefertiti. I know she’s Pharaoh's wife and all but it hardly seems fair, does it?”

Cass blinked and stared at him, “What?”

“There, there, Miss Cassandra. Why not watch a nice, happy movie next, hmm? Take your mind off things a bit?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks, Codsworth.”

“Not everything in life needs to be so serious, after all. Sometimes one just needs a little amusement.”

“That’s… true.”

“How about  _ The Tunnel of Love, _ hmm? You know how you adore Doris Day.”

“Right. Doris Day.”

“I’ll have it ready in a jiffy!”

Cass stood up, “Codsworth.”

“Yes, mum?”

“Actually… I think I’m going to turn in. Would you mind locking up and taking a watch by the front door tonight?”

“Take a watch, mum? In Diamond City?”

“Yes, there were some… ruffians here earlier. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Goodness! Well, of course I will.” He jiggled the lock on the door he was hovering by just in case. “My word,  _ ruffians in Diamond City. _ For heaven’s sake. And you’ll be quite alright at this end, then? Mister MacCready seems quite capable.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Wonderful. Good night then, mum.”

“Good night, Codsworth.”

Mac was already standing in the shower. Not actually washing anything though. He’d already scrubbed his hair and since they’d just been sitting on their asses all week, it’s not like he was filthy or anything. He didn’t even really want to be here except he needed to get away from Cass and it was too cold outside to hide on the roof.

He’d blown it. Put how he felt out there and just… nothing. He felt completely humiliated and now he was going to have to go back out into the field with her and pretend like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t just got kicked in the nuts.

Emotionally speaking.

At least he hadn’t  _ really _ put it all out there. If he’d told her how he really,  _ truly _ felt, she’d probably have fired him on the spot. Better to still have a job and carry a secret torch than have it all tossed in the trash all at once, right? Sure.

“Mac?”

He just about jumped out of his skin. Mac moved from under the spray and stared at the shadow on the shower curtain. “Boss?”

“I did knock.”

“What do you want?”

She slowly pulled the curtain open, giving him plenty of time to protest. He was a little too confused for that though. She was in a robe, staring up at him like he totally wasn’t naked at all.

Mac folded his arms and went for work-annoyed, “What?”

“I like you, too.” She went a bit pink and lowered her eyes, then got somewhere interesting, jumped a bit and jerked them away from him altogether.

He almost laughed. She was at least as nervous as when she’d tried to apologize to him at the Rex. “You do?”

“Yes, I do… and, as long as we’re just enjoying ourselves and… and you’re of sound mind and body and all, I’d like to… I mean, if you want I…” She took a deep breath and finally managed to look at him again. “I could wash your back, if you’d like.”

His eyes went a little wide despite his best effort to be chill about this new development. "Yeah, that, uh, that'd be... nice."

Cass smiled at him and dropped the robe. He felt like time had suddenly come to a full and complete stop as he stared at her. Sure, he'd seen most of her before. The soft, full breasts, that tiny waist and slim hips. Legs that somehow went on forever despite her being a half-pint. But seeing everything all at once was just different somehow. Especially that small patch of curls that covered what he still wanted to see more than anything in the world.

She stared up at him and a corner of her mouth quirked up. "I guess I'll just get in behind you then."

"Oh. Oh, s-sorry."

"It's fine." She moved to the other side of the curtain and got in.

Mac couldn't help himself and turned so he could keep watching her as she lathered soap between her hands. Barely any water had gotten on her at all yet somehow this was fulfilling every slippery when wet fantasy he'd ever had.

Cass finally glanced up at him and laughed at whatever slack-jawed expression he was making. "Back first, sweetheart."

"Right! Right. I knew that." He turned back around and tried to keep his muscles relaxed when her hands brushed his shoulders. It was surprisingly difficult. The little circles she was rubbing him down with were probably meant to be soothing or something but the longer she touched him, the twitchier he seemed to get.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah it's, uh, it's nice."

"Pumpkin?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to turn around?"

Did he? He totally did, right? Certainly his cock wanted him to. Mac opened his mouth and was actually surprised at what came out. "Can I wash you?"

She giggled, "Just trying to slip past your rule, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Turn around."

He turned and grinned down at her. "Now's when I'm supposed to say 'I've been a dirty, dirty boy', right?"

"Ha. Good one." She stepped close enough that his cock pressed against her belly and he groaned. "Know what? You just might be even more handsome when wet. I didn’t think that was possible."

"I was just thinking the same thing about you. I mean, but beautiful. You know."

"That's sweet."

"I like how your hair tries to get curly."

"I like how yours still stays fluffy somehow. That's kind of impressive."

He laughed, "I am super nervous right now."

"Nervous? Why?"

"I dunno. You just make me nervous whenever we're like this."

She pouted for a second. "Well I definitely didn't want that."

"No, it's a good nervous."

"A good nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." Cass started carefully washing his chest while murmuring to herself. "A good nervous…"

"Is that weird?"

"No, I used to feel that way on roller coasters."

"Oh." Her breasts were close enough to almost brush against him. Barely an inch. "Can I kiss you?"

"What're the magic words?"

"Please?"

Her fingernails raked over his skin and he shivered. "Please what, honey?"

"Please, Mama?"

Her eyes met his. "I do love those --"

Mac moved without thinking. The moment her smiling mouth was tilted up enough, his hands were somehow in her hair and his lips were on hers. Tasting, savoring, and so, so grateful for the opportunity. He stepped just a little closer and his soap-slick skin was pressed against her, just like he wanted. Almost no friction at all as he rubbed against her but it still felt amazing.

He had a little worry over whether this was going to land him back in the dog house in the back of his mind. She’d definitely never actually given him permission for this. On the other hand, she was kissing him back at least as hard as he was kissing her. So, he might be in trouble, but it was probably the good kind of trouble where she tortured him with her sexy self and her teasing words until he felt his soul leave his body.

Then her hand was on his ass, pulling him even closer and he didn’t give a flying fuck if she decided to spank him in front of Atom and everybody else for this. One of his hands eased down to the small of her back but no further. He wasn’t taking any extra chances on this.

Cass pulled back first and giggled when he immediately started on her neck, licking the water droplets there and tickling her. “Goodness, somebody’s affectionate tonight...”

“M'hmm.”

“...and  _ naughty.” _

Man, fuck it. So what if he was? What was she really gonna do about it anyway? Mac nibbled a little, just as a warning of sorts, before he sucked hard on the sensitive skin. Cass gasped and then laughed again.

“I suppose this is just what happens when you aren’t in your proper place, hmm? Can’t even manage to be good unless Mama’s right on top of you.” She sighed heavily, “And here I was all geared up to give you a big treat, too.”

Okay, now that he  _ did _ care about. He pulled back enough to look at her and immediately pouted at the mirthful sparkle in her eyes. There was a high chance she was about to just say something to fuck with him, but he had to ask.

“What treat?”

Her smile was mean. It just was. “Oh, it’s not really a big deal. I was just going to let you show off a little.”

“Show off?”

“You said you were good with your hands, right?” She shrugged, “I have to admit, I’ve been curious ever since you said it, but now…” Another dismissive shrug. “I guess I’ll just never know.”

Oh, bullshit. That was completely bullshit. There was no way in hell she was just never gonna let him… shit. She did have crazy amounts of very annoying self control. “Doesn’t that punish you, too?”

“The best punishments always hurt Mama more than baby, sweetheart. That’s just how discipline works.”

A whine escaped him and he dropped his head onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I know you are, baby love. I know.”

“Can I make it up to you?”

“Hmm.” She hummed thoughtfully and wrapped a soapy hand around his cock, slowly pumping and completely ignoring every groan and needy whine that left his throat. “Let me think… how to make it up to me…” Her hands were now gently soaping his balls and he was starting to feel lightheaded. “Well. I  _ suppose _ if you could wash me and  _ behave yourself, _ then maybe…”

He was nodding even before she finished. “I can be good.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll see.” She put the soap in his hand and smiled sweetly at him. “For the next five minutes, you have temporary below the waist privileges. Use them  _ wisely.” _

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. This was a trap, right? Had to be. He could feel it in his blood, most of which was still pounding in his cock. Cass squeezed past him to stand directly under the shower, back to him, face upturned under the spray like he wasn’t even there at all. He almost felt like some perverted creeper staring at her, watching the water run down her body and touch all the places he wanted to touch.

She finally stepped back a little and looked at him over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“Sh-should I wash your hair, first?”

“No, I just washed it yesterday. Would you like me to move it out of the way?”

“Y-yes. Yes, please.”

“Okay.” In no time her hair was twisted up onto the top of her head and she held it there with both hands.

Mac realized, of course, this meant she was basically defenseless. Purposefully. Testing his resolve and control further than anyone else had ever dreamed. The playfully cruel grin she shot him was almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost.

He took a deep breath and soaped up his hands. He could do this. He’d surely to Atom accomplished harder things than this before, right? Sure. He was just going to appreciate what he’d been given and enjoy this moment. That was all.

His hands started at the back of her neck, gently massaging before moving to her shoulders. Down her back, where two little dimples sat just above her ass. He’d never seen that before and realized his thumbs fit there naturally if he held her by the hips.

“These are cute.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve never seen it before.”

“Really?” She turned her head to watch him for a moment. “They’re called dimples of Venus.”

Oh, he knew that name. She was the goddess of something, right? Something big. “Cool.”

“M’hmm.”

It was his big moment. He finally got up enough nerve to cross that invisible border and felt the same rush as when he was committing a B and E for some reason. Forbidden fruit. Okay, maybe not so forbidden right now, but still. Pretty fucking rare.

He was trying to be good here, he really, truly was. Made sure his hands were nice and extra soapy before he allowed himself the unparalleled glory of finally,  _ finally _ getting his hands on the ass he’d been fantasizing about for almost a fucking month. Firm but pleasantly squishy. His favorite. He couldn’t help but squeeze just a bit. Just the teeny, tiniest amount. She stretched as he did it, unconsciously spreading her legs a little and his mouth was suddenly dry. He felt parched.

How did you get thirsty in a fucking shower?

Cass let her hair drop and put her hands against the shower wall, rising up on her tiptoes and wiggling in a way that actually had him wondering if she was maybe hoping he’d just throw caution to the wind here and pounce her.

“Don’t forget my legs, honey.”

“Oh… oh, yeah.” Mac finally managed to swallow and knelt down behind her, running a hand down the back of her thigh and along her calf, then repeating it on the other side. He kept his gaze firmly focused on her ankles. Seemed the safest bet.

Her eyes were still on him when he stood up. He couldn’t tell if she was proud of him or not, he just knew her eyes were dark and heated and she was breathing a bit faster than before.

“Done.”

She blinked, “Done?”

“Uh…”

“I think you missed a spot.” She pouted at him and wiggled her ass again.

“O-oh.” Oh, God. This was the trap, right? He was going to inevitably stick his hand somewhere it wasn’t wanted, and then she’d kill him with her terrible, awful kindness that always seemed to leave him a slobbering idiot.

She smiled at him, “Pumpkin?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Have you ever fucked a girl in the ass?”

His cock twitched and he knew there was no fucking way she’d missed it smacking into her. “Yes, ma’am. Couple of times.”

“A couple of times, or a couple of girls?”

“Couples of times. Same girl.”

He’d wanted to impress Lucy once she was finally grown up, too. Wanted at least one of them to know what the hell they were doing. So he’d gone to Rivet City to meet up with an older girl from Lamplight, Trinnie. He’d kind of always had a crush on her anyway and he’d heard she was turning tricks at the Muddy Rudder. She hadn’t exactly been as pretty as he remembered. The chems and alcohol were starting to catch up to her by then, but she’d given him a ‘friends and family’ discount and showed him the ropes. Looking back on it, he definitely only got exactly what he paid for and not a bit more, but he was still grateful for the education, no matter how rudimentary it was.

“Did you like it?”

“Um, I don’t really… I mean, it --”

“Did it feel good, honey?”

“Y-yes, but…”

“But what?”

“I really only want to do things that make both of us feel good. Not just me.”

Cass stared at him for a moment and then started giggling. “God, you are just  _ so _ fucking cute!”

“What?”

Her eyes were twinkling at him and she turned away. He still knew she was laughing by the way her shoulders occasionally shook, but at least she’d turned away. That was almost considerate.

“You still missed a spot.”

“Right.” He almost felt like he was disarming a bomb here, but he slid his hand down between her cheeks and held his breath. “Is this alright?”

“M’hmm.”

“Okay.” He’d lingered long enough. Mac removed his hand and almost immediately got a huff of disapproval from Cass. “What? What’d I do?”

“You missed a spot! How many times do I have to say it, baby?”

“I-I did?”

“Yes, you did.” She turned and put a comforting hand on his chest, pressing the softest of kisses against his lips. “Honestly, sweetheart, how on earth am I going to get fucked in the ass by that enormous cock of yours if you can’t even properly prepare me. Do you  _ want _ Mama to get hurt? Hmm?”

He felt his whole face go red and wanted to hide but there was nowhere to go. She shouldn’t be able to look at him with  _ that face  _ and say shit like that. It just wasn’t fair. The same chipper tone she’d use if she was asking him if he wanted popcorn or not, watching his reaction with wide, angelic eyes and that smirk. That fucking smirk that always let him know she was messing with him. Again. Because she thought it was funny for some reason.

“O-oh.”

“Get your hand nice and soapy again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He complied as she turned back around and hummed some inane song like this was just another shower for her.

Okay, he could do this. He totally could. He set a hand on her hip and she widened her stance a bit, giving him easier access. Her ass was  _ tiny. _ She was tiny all over. Did she not realize that? There was no way his cock was going to fit into that tiny ass! It just wasn’t!

His head tilted a little so he could see what he was actually doing and even more doubts filled his mind. Her asshole was every bit as little as the rest of her. This was… this was nuts, is what it was. She knew he wasn’t into doling out pain. Why would she --

Cass suddenly moaned softly as his fingertip delicately skimmed across her hole and his whole sense of being suddenly shifted focus to making her make that noise again. He pressed a little firmer, moving in a soapy circle over the puckered surface. Her moan turned into a desperate sort of whine and she leaned back against him, hips slowly moving back and forth and driving him insane.

“Baby, please…”

Oh, wow.  _ Wow. _ Her actually begging him right now was making him feel ridiculously powerful for some reason. Mac slipped his other arm around her, happy to keep it around her waist until she moved his hand to her breast.

That was… better. It definitely was. A vast improvement over his own placement. God, she was so smart. What had he been thinking?

He squeezed and gently kneaded, enjoying the way her nails were starting to dig into his arm and the impatient little murmurs coming from her. When his finger finally sank into her, she moaned and leaned back into it. He felt like she got louder the deeper he got, but that might have just been his imagination. She was hot and tight and smooth inside. He imagined just for a moment what it would feel like to actually get his cock in there someday and shuddered.

“Mmm, sweetheart?”

“M’hmm?”

“Move, pumpkin. Please.” She twisted enough to pull his face down to hers and kissed him, moaning against his mouth as she gently moved back and forth to show him how she liked it. Once he had the rhythm down, she stilled and then her whole body shivered. He finally realized she was rubbing her clit.

The hand at her breast rolled her nipple and she arched and then nipped his lip.

“Gentle, baby.”

“Sorry.”

“More.”

“What?”

“Add another finger.”

Was she kidding? He’d barely got the first one in there. If it weren’t for the impatient way she was wiggling against him, he’d have thought this was a trick of some kind.

“Okay.”

Mac couldn’t really see how to stick in a second with one already taking up so much room, so he pulled the first finger out altogether and then pressed both against her. He was absolutely convinced it wasn’t going to work at all right up until the moment that it did. She gasped and writhed in his arms suddenly and he felt like king of the mountain.

Her head leaned back against his chest, eyes closed and nibbling on her lip. He didn’t really get it, but she certainly looked happy, so he kept at the same slow rhythm. Every once in a while there was a tiny flutter inside her body and the heat around his fingers would jump a few more degrees.

“Does it feel good?”

“M’hmm. You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

She was panting now. That was music almost as sweet as when she moaned. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to her praise so he just dipped his head down a bit and brushed his lips against hers. Just an offering to see if she wanted to kiss him. He felt strangely submissive. Even more than when he’d been under her. Maybe because he existed solely to please her right now?

Then she was kissing him again and he couldn’t even think if he wanted to. The pressure and heat around his fingers grew and then she gasped against his mouth, cumming around his fingers in a way that was both familiar and not. The ring of muscle clamped down on him and pulsed and his cock pulsed with it. He now wanted to push into her ass almost as much as he wanted to cum in her pussy.

Weird.

She finally smiled against his mouth and broke their kiss. “You did so well, sweetheart.”

“I did?”

“M’hmm.”

“Can we try --”

“Unfortunately, your five minutes are up.” She pouted at him and removed his hand from her ass while he stared down at her in disbelief.

“Are... are you serious?”

“Of course.” She thoroughly washed his hand under the spray and smiled up at him. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“I dunno, I thought maybe I’d earned… something.”

“Ah, I see.”

“See what?”

“You totally want to fuck my ass now, don't you?"

"What!? No… no, I…" The incredulous look on her face let him know she saw right through him and he sighed, abruptly deciding to stop trying to deny it. "Yeah. I mean, yes, ma'am, I do."

"M'hmm. We should get out of the shower. Hot water's gonna run out."

"Right."

Mac watched her switch off the water. Watched her towel herself off quickly and step out. Watched her snuggle back into her robe. He sighed again.

Cass finally turned and almost laughed at his forlorn expression. "Goodness gracious, pumpkin. What's wrong?"

He shrugged, "Nothing, I just… I liked being in here with you."

"I liked it, too."

"Now it's over."

"Well, that's kind of a sad way to think about it." She started toweling him off, starting with his hair. "Why not focus on the good stuff, hmm?"

"The good stuff?"

"M'hmm."

"Okay… it was really fun."

"Yes, it was."

"I really liked touching you."

"Yes, that was definitely my favorite part, too."

"Yeah…"

He still sounded awfully sad. Was this some kind of subdrop? She didn't really feel like they'd done enough to trigger that, but everyone was different, of course. She hummed thoughtfully and studied his face for a moment.

Oh. Ooooh, that was it. Of course. He didn't realize this was just the start of their evening.

Well, that made sense. No wonder he was pouting. Silly boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reworking the last three chapters! So until then, updates will be once a week. Thank you for your patience!


	11. Motivation

"I'm so glad you were good for me, dearest. Step out of the tub, please."

Mac moved to obey and stood still while she continued to dry him off. "You are?"

"M'hmm. Otherwise, I'd never have been able to justify sleeping with you tonight. That would have completely gone against our whole arrangement."

"Oh. You mean, we're… tonight's…"

She shrugged, "Entirely dependent upon you and your behavior."

He was starting to grin at her again. Excited and eager. That's what she liked to see. Kinda reminded her of a kid at Christmas.

"Okay! I can… I  _ will be _ super good."

Of course, messing with him was pretty great, too. "Oh, good. Put your hands behind your back."

"What?"

"Hands. Put them behind your back."

"Yes, ma'am."

She waited for him to comply and idly ran a hand along his chest and down his belly. She'd never really been into muscles but she was definitely into his. There was a lean, wiry, deceptively strong quality to his physique that made her heart flutter just a bit.

"Pretty baby. See, the thing is, you  _ were _ a little naughty in the beginning."

"I'm sorry."

"It's just got me concerned that you won't be able to control yourself later on when things get exciting."

_"When?_ I mean, they were already pretty exciting."

She laughed, "That's true, but I need you to show me you can control yourself. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"So for this next part, it's pretty simple. You just have to stand there and stay still."

He somehow just looked more concerned despite the simplicity of her request. Cass hid her grin. He was a fast learner.

"Okay."

"You can do that, right?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Alright, just one last thing. Do you know what a prostate is?"

Now he looked  _ really _ nervous. "Um, I mean, I've definitely heard of it, but…"

"Okay. That's okay. We'll work our way up to that. Save it for later."

"O-okay."

"Remember, hands behind your back. Stay still."

He actually assumed parade rest and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Cass was kind of at a loss here. He was just so cute and naturally charming. It made it hard to remember she was supposed to be bossy pants and in charge. She almost wanted to just snuggle against him and let him do whatever fool thing he wanted.

There'd be plenty of time for that later though. Enough stalling.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, careful to tuck her robe under herself so she didn't get a chill from the cold floor. He sucked in a breath but otherwise stayed still, so she ignored it.

His thighs were twitching though. How cute was that?

Part of her was a little nervous. For starters, he was certainly well-endowed. She hadn't been blowing smoke up his ass when she'd told him he was bigger than anything she'd ever encountered. Couldn't even get her whole hand around him. Thick, veiny, uncut perfection bobbed right in front of her and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated. It was even bigger close up.

If Deacon had a cock like this, he'd have ruptured her esophagus by now.

So deep-throating was definitely out. It had been a long time since she'd actually given a proper blowjob. She wasn't used to having to rely on finesse here. Hancock had almost never wanted one. He'd always said he preferred other holes, but he'd certainly been happy to get sucked off by Magnolia that one time, so maybe she really wasn't very good at this? Was this even a good idea?

Mac had just been with Magnolia. Who no doubt had her mouth down here. She felt a little like trying to go on stage after a true talent, like Katherine Hepburn or something. He was young and inexperienced but he wasn't stupid. Anybody could tell the difference between an amateur and a professional.

"Cass?"

She blinked and glanced up at him, "Yes, handsome?"

"Are you okay?"

Now wasn't this silly. She should be asking him questions like that. "I'm fine."

"You kinda look like you're going to be sick."

"What? No, I'm --"

"You don't have to do anything like… I mean, I'm not one of those jerks who just expects…"

Oh, God. He sounded so sad and embarrassed. Fuck. Mea culpa time.

"It's just stage fright."

"What?"

Cass finally got brave enough to actually look him in the eye and got a little lost in the gentle concern on his face. When was the last time a man actually looked at her like that without the usual underlying pity? He was inches away from getting sucked off and perfectly willing to press pause on the whole thing just for her.

She recognized this feeling. Hadn't felt it in a long time, though. Maybe not even since Benji. It was the comforting, safe feel of being with a partner who genuinely cared and would never hurt her.  If she didn't take care here, she was liable to fall for this cupcake. It would be all too easy.

"It's just that I'm not that confident in my skill set here, and I want to impress you." This was kind of mortifying but he deserved the truth. "Plus, I mean… I've done a scene or two with Magnolia myself. Seen her in action. It's a little intimidating to follow an act like that."

He'd blushed the moment she mentioned the singer's name. "No, you don't… you shouldn't worry about her. I um, well, that last night in Goodneighbor -- "

_ "Really _ don't need details on that."

"-- I couldn't even… it's probably messed up but I couldn't even do anything unless I pretended she was you. I, uh, I mean, she tried for a while and whatever but nothing… happened? Not until I turned the lights off and…" He winced, "I called her by your name. At least twice, probably more. That's bad, right? I feel like that's the worst possible thing a guy can do and I’ll probably never be able to look her in the eye ever again."

"It's… I mean, yes, normally, ladies do not like it when you call them by the wrong name --"

"Shit. I knew it. I am  _ the worst." _

"-- but Mags is a professional and I'm sure it's happened before. It's probably fine. Did you say you were sorry?"

"So many times."

Cass laughed. She could just imagine poor Magnolia trying to handle such a sweet baby. She knew she was used to a certain level of sophistication from her clients. Mac was a lot of things but he certainly wasn't that. She'd probably found him adorably hopeless or something.

"Then it's definitely fine."

"You really think so?"

"I do."

"Okay, good. It's been bugging me."

She had literally no idea how to clue him in on the fact that most men didn't give a shit about the feelings of a prostitute. Wasn't even sure she should. There was so much innocence in him for someone who had already lived through the things he'd lived through. She didn't want to rob him of that.

Instead she just smiled at him, "You're such a sweetheart."

"I am?"

"M'hmm." She dragged her tongue up along the tip of his cock and smirked at the way his whole body flexed. "You really are."

"O-okay... thank you."

"No, no, thank you." Another soft lick and his breath was stuttering in his chest. She saw the way his shoulders rolled a little, the way he shuddered and tutted at him. "Remember the rules."

"Yeah. Yes. Yes, ma'am."

His eyes were closed now. Couldn't have that. She thrived on attention after all. What was any performance without an audience?

"Eyes on me."

It seemed to take effort, but he finally managed to open his eyes and look down at her. "Oh, shit."

She laughed, "What?"

"It's a lot more…  _ more, _ when I'm actually looking at you. I dunno how long I can last."

"You don't really need to focus on that right now."

"I don't?"

"No, the usual goal of a blowjob is for you to cum, so don't worry about that. Just enjoy it."

"O-okay." Mac was fairly certain he'd somehow managed to land, or at least partially land, the perfect woman. Sexy, sweet, more than happy to teach him things. He was cashing in on some big karma here. No doubt.

Her warm mouth finally sealed around the head of his cock and it made his whole body tingle. He couldn't help the loud groan that slipped out, or the way his stomach muscles clenched with the effort of not thrusting against her.

He was already panting. Wasn't even sure when that had started but he was. Her tongue swirled around him and she kept the suction soft and gentle. It was driving him nuts. Completely different than how most girls in his experience gave head. Even Magnolia had been rougher and more aggressive. Cass had said that the goal here was for him to cum, and certainly with others they'd really seemed hell-bent on making that happen, but this was different. Better, somehow.

Her head bobbled along his length, a hand twisting and pumping him in time. She finally went deeper, far down enough he could feel himself brush the back of her throat. It took everything in him to keep from jerking back. That was too far, right? It had always been too far before and if he hurt her, he'd absolutely die.

Cass had a look of intense concentration on her face and actually leaned a bit of her weight into the next pass. The head of his cock started to push down her throat and Mac was trembling when she finally pulled back. It felt so fucking good but he was kind of terrified he'd hurt her. She just looked frustrated though and shook her head.

"Yeah, that's probably not going to happen any time soon."

"Are you okay?"

She laughed softly and winked up at him. "I'm fine, baby love. You gotta stop worrying so much, okay? I appreciate it, but I'm not going to hurt myself. I promise."

"Oh. Okay."

"It's sweet though. You're very sweet."

"Th-thanks." Fuck, now her mouth was lipping at the sensitive skin of his balls. A gentle nibbling that lead into her sucking while both hands now pumped his cock, one to swirl over the head and the other to slide up and down his shaft.

He was kind of confused. She'd said she wasn't confident in this. What'd she have to not be confident about exactly?

His knees were starting to feel wobbly as she licked and kissed her way back up his shaft and took him into her mouth again. It was harder to hold eye contact now, especially when he could tell she was smiling at him the whole damn time.

Had anyone ever done that? Enjoyed sucking him off so much that it actually made them smile? Even Lucy just sort of treated blowjobs like… well, a job.

Was that the difference? Cass was playful and extremely thorough and patient. It was like she was making love to him with her mouth.

How was he supposed to ever go back to the usual when he'd now experienced this?

Mac laughed a little, and the adorable way she tilted her head at him, big dark eyes so innocent and curious just had him laughing harder. He'd never seen someone look like an angel with a cock in their mouth before. There was a clear question in the way her eyebrow arched and he shook his head.

"It's nothing. Just… I'm pretty sure you've officially ruined me for other women."

That had her chuckling, which sent the nicest of vibrations along his length.

She took her mouth away just for a split second. "Flatterer."

He shook his head and wanted more than anything to be able to tangle his fingers in her hair, but he hadn't earned that yet.

"It's true. It's totally,  _ ah!" _

Flattery really did apparently get you everywhere with Cass. She’d engulfed him in her mouth as far as she could and sucked hard as she pulled away. Slow. So, so slow. Watching him extra carefully all the while and apparently very pleased at his obvious fight to stay still.

When she reached the end, she stopped staring at him to switch her attention to the pre-cum leaking from his tip, kissing it softly like it deserved praise, too.

“Baby love?”

“Y-yes? Yes, ma’am?”

“If you could put your hands anywhere right now, where would they be?”

He didn’t even have to think. “Your hair. I’d have them in your hair.”

“Why?”

Why? He honestly had no idea and tried to mull it over before answering. It was hard when he only had maybe ten percent of his mental faculties at the moment. The way she kept licking at him like his cock was a goddamn popsicle was not helping his concentration, either.

“Because it feels good and I want to… you know, rub your head and stuff, so you know how good it feels.”

That was apparently an unexpected answer as she frowned thoughtfully. “That’s all?”

“I guess, yeah. Yes, ma’am.”

“Not because you want to take control or maybe push my mouth further --”

“No! No, of course not.”

The frown deepened, “Why ‘of course not’?”

“Cause raiders do shit like that!”

“Raiders?”

“I’m grown and whatever, but I’m no raider. I don’t treat women like that. I  _ won’t _ treat a woman like that.”

“Hmm… and that’s something raiders do?”

“Yeah! They just  _ take. _ They take and they take and they don’t care who gets hurt. As long as it feels good for them, and makes them happy, they don’t care.”

“Honey --”

“I’m not like that!”

“Of course you aren’t.”

Cass stared up at him with real concern in her eyes. Most men relished taking charge during... well, most parts of sex really but definitely during a blowjob. She’d always just assumed he was a naturally gentle sweetheart, but that wasn’t it. Something else was there. Something that terrified him, or had scarred him deep down. She’d only meant to tease him a bit for denying such a basic impulse but somehow she’d stumbled on something traumatic. That hadn’t been her intention at all. She rubbed his hip soothingly and waited until he was able to make eye contact again.

“Of course you aren’t, darling.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry if that means you aren’t as interested but I can’t. I just can’t. Not… not even for you.”

Oh, God. “No, no, no.  _ No. _ I would never ask you to. And it doesn’t make me less interested.” She laughed softly, “If anything, I mean, that makes you even more wonderful. You’re perfect. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay.”

He took a deep breath, “Okay.”

“Do you want to keep going or should we take a break?”

“Um…”

Certainly his cock was still as hard as it had ever been, but he was rattled. There was no way around it. She decided to make the decision for him. Take the pressure off.

“Because I think we should take a break. Spend the rest of the evening in bed.” She smiled at him and it was more sweet than sexy. “Does that sound good?”

The way his face cleared and he immediately smiled back at her let her know she’d made the right choice for them both. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Okay… now help an old lady off the floor, why dontcha?”

He laughed and actually bodily picked her up and set her on her feet. “You always talk like you’re ancient.”

“I  _ am _ ancient, pumpkin.”

“You know what I mean.”

“M’hmm. Come on.” She took his hand and started to leave the bathroom with him in tow.

“Wait, my clothes are --”

“You aren’t going to be needing those.”

“O-oh.”

She tried not to laugh at the tremor in his voice as they headed up the stairs. He didn’t sound scared, exactly, but he definitely seemed to think she was going to drag him into her boudoir and ravish him or something. As if she could ever do such a thing to such a high quality man.

If anyone was going to be doing the ravishing here, it was going to be him. She just had to get him there first. But step one of that was damage control.

Cass tossed her robe and crawled into bed, tugging him along with her and pretending she didn’t see the nervous way his eyes kept darting everywhere or the slight tremor in his hands. She’d be flattered beyond all measure by his adorable timidity if she wasn’t completely certain he was going through some kind of trauma response to the raider stuff. 

He was far more passive than he usually was, even when on his best behavior. No sneaky touches or lingering looks. He just meekly let her arrange him as she pleased, curled up against her, head cradled against her chest. When he didn’t immediately move to put his arms around her, she did it for him. One hand held hostage under her breast and the other on her waist. Once he was in place, she rubbed his back and ran her fingers through his hair like he liked, waiting for the tense muscles in his shoulders to relax.

It took him a while, but eventually the arm around her tightened. His head burrowed a little closer until his forehead was pressed against her breastbone. Cass smiled in the dark and just kept humming. ‘Moon River’ since it was sweet and slow enough to be a lullaby.

Clearly he wasn’t going to broach the topic first, so it was up to her to take the lead.

“This is nice.”

Mac mumbled something against her. She couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like an affirmation so she ran with it.

“Sometimes it’s nice to slow things down a bit, don’t you think?”

Another quiet murmur. His breathing had evened out at least and the only tension she could feel was in the arm slowly squeezing her to death.

She decided to let that slide. She couldn’t, however, let whatever was actually bothering him slide. Not tonight, or things would forever be tainted by it. Begin as you mean to go on. That was the ticket.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I took NukaWorld back from a whole nation of raiders?”

He shook his head and she laughed at the way his stubble scratched at her skin.

“Alrighty. Well... let’s see. It was summer. I’m not sure exactly when, but it was very hot. I definitely remember that. One day I got this signal on my Pipboy from the old NukaWorld transit center. It was this train station of sorts. Or, rather, a monorail station? It’s like a suspended train. Kinda. Anyway, it was suddenly active again so Cait and I… oh, you haven’t met her yet, but I think you two would get along. She’s fun.”

“So Cait and I head on out and there were already Gunners there. Investigating or something. I was already so irritated with the whole lot of them that we just went ahead and cleared them out. Somehow, we ended up in this raider trap.  _ The Gauntlet, _ they called it. A crazy obstacle course where they did everything they possibly could to kill us in the most ridiculous ways you can imagine. Whole place was disgusting and Cait was super angry because there were all these riddles and puzzles to solve and she  _ hates _ things like that. She’s a very straightforward person and prefers the whole world to be that way as well.”

“We made our way through and they'd set up a literal boss fight at the end. Like it was all just a big game for them. There was a man named Colter and he was the Overboss. He’d united three different gangs of raiders together in the park and basically named himself king. At least, that’s what he claimed. Really it was the man behind the throne, Porter Gage, that had done it. Colter had a great time killing everyone who survived the Gauntlet by  _ cheating _ and using this massive electrical grid to keep himself safe the whole time. Big baby.”

Mac chuckled at her remembered outrage and she smiled.

“But it turned out that the raiders hated Colter. I mean,  _ really _ hated him. Apparently he was an asshole and a layabout to boot. They’d plotted with Gage behind his back to replace him with whoever could defeat him in the Gauntlet. I guess they thought an outside hire was more trustworthy than anyone promoted from within, as sad as that is. Long story short, with Gage’s help, I became Overboss in about… oh, I’d say six minutes flat.”

“Of course, that meant I had to babysit the three gangs. They were  _ ridiculous.  _ There was the Pack, who thought of themselves as wolves or something. They howled and snarled at people, wore furs and fought animals for fun. Constant peacocking and endless challenges for dominance. Their leader was a man named Mason who stared at me like I was something he was going to hunt for food. It was creepy. Cait liked him, though, but… well, she’s always had terrible taste in men.”

“Then you had the Disciples. A whole mess of people who thought torturing people was the end all be all of human existence. They preferred knives and extreme bondage as their weapons of choice. I mean… I’ve done things in the bedroom and all, but no _sane_ person would ever go as far as they did. I actually wanted to like them at first since they were led by a woman and, in fact, were mostly women. Nisha, that was their boss lady, had supervised the building of the Gauntlet and thought it was peachy keen. Real classy lady, that one. Her main squeezes, Dixie and this super cranky guy named Savoy, were even worse. Somehow. I mean, I dunno how, but they managed it. Must have taken a hell of an effort, too, because Nisha was terrifying enough all on her own.”

“The ones I liked best, if you can call it that, were the Operators. Their leaders were exiles from Diamond City, actually. Upper stands. All they really cared about was caps. They were educated and very nearly civilized. I really thought I might be able to reason with them, but in the end, they allowed their judgement to be clouded by arrogance and a refusal to evolve. It’s adapt or perish in the wastes, that’s what I always say. Anyway, Cait hated the whole lot. Said they put on airs and were snobs. Which was true. They even looked down on me and, I mean… not to brag or anything, but I am  _ me. _ If I wasn’t good enough for them, nobody was.”

Mac finally peeked up at her, “So what happened?”

“Well, at first, all I cared about was getting myself and Cait out of there. We were escorted to the Overboss’s quarters. They were at the top of this very tall old restaurant. Our plan was to drug Gage and just take off, you know? Too much hassle. We’d been led on a tour of the park and I'd counted over three hundred raiders. Three  _ hundred. _ Against just us two. Absolutely not. Complete suicide mission.”

“That’s a lot of raiders.”

“I know! It was nuts! Fights would break out all over the damn place, everybody was so antagonistic all the time. It was exhausting. I’ve never frowned so much in my whole life!”

“So what changed your mind about leaving?”

She sighed, “Well, I’m an idiot, of course. At least, that’s what Cait said when I told her we were staying. See, NukaWorld had originally been a proper community with a trade hub and all. When the raiders came, they killed most of the people but enslaved the merchants and the doctor. Anybody useful, in other words. They all had these terrible collars on and when I told Gage I didn’t approve of slavery, he said they were all free to leave any time they wanted.”

“Really?”

“No, not really. They’d let them take their collars off and then they’d get hunted down the moment they left the park. For sport.”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Not much of a choice. Even when I tried talking to them directly, most insisted the collars actually kept them safe. Marked them as belonging to the Overboss so nobody would mess with them. Which meant me, of course. I’ve never felt so dirty as I did that day. To look around and realize you suddenly own a bunch of people is… awful.”

“I didn’t know what we were going to do but I knew we were doing something, so we stayed. The first few weeks, I kept them all quiet by clearing the outlying parks. I guess Colter had always promised he would but then never did. That kept everybody happy. Even Gage started to fall for the act. I had to send Cait home though. Subterfuge was never her strength and the whole place was very hard for her to be around.”

“You sent her home? So you were just by yourself? With all those raiders?”

The muscles in his back were tightening again. She was getting close to whatever had him so anxious. A woman alone with raiders… maybe his mother? He’d said he was born in Lamplight. A young girl would definitely be vulnerable.

“Shh, it’s alright. The story has a happy ending, or I wouldn’t be here with you now.”

“Oh...right.”

“But yes, I was all by myself. The only person I could count on was Gage and he was only my ally so long as I pretended to be into the whole Overboss gig. But I sent Cait back with a message and she definitely delivered.”

“What was the message?”

“A call to arms of a sort. I have a lot of unique friends scattered throughout the Commonwealth and a few points beyond. Over the course of a week, they each found a reason to visit NukaWorld. We all pretended to not know each other, but I personally welcomed each distinguished guest into the park, naturally. We were able to coordinate by leaving messages for each other all over the place.”

“Who came?”

“Oh, everybody. Deacon, of course. I’m pretty sure he was already there, actually. He’s usually about a half step behind me at all times, so… who knows? Strong, a super mutant friend of mine.”

“A super mutant?”

“M’hmm. We bonded over our love of the Bard.”

“What?”

“It’s not important. Anyway, Strong, Deacon, a lovely man named Danse who used to be a Brotherhood Paladin.”

“Used to be? I thought that was a lifelong kind of thing.”

“It is, but he began a new life, so now he works for me. Uh, lesse, who else. Well, Hancock, of course. Fahrenheit, too.” God, she hated thinking about that now. They’d been both instrumental in taking back NukaWorld and in keeping her amused and distracted with their hilarious antics. She was really going to miss the two of them.

“A few of my friends from the Railroad made the trip. More out of boredom I think than anything else. Piper showed up but I made her go back home.”

_ “Piper? _ Piper Wright? What’d she think she was going to do? Talk them to death?”

Cass laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder, “Hush, you. She’s tough when she has to be. If it hadn’t been for Nat waiting for her here, I’d have loved to have her in the fight.”

“M’hmm.”

“Nick came, of course. He’s not really one for violence, but he had some unfinished business with the leaders of the Operators. Some old murder he wanted solved. He always gets his man. Or… two women and  _ a  _ man, in that case. In the end, we had almost thirty people. That was more than enough.”

“Thirty people?”

“Yup.”

“Against three hundred?”

“Oh… well, it’s not like they all stayed once the fighting began. Raiders are notorious for being cowards. Once we began to sweep through the park, their radio DJ panicked and told everybody they were under attack. I very much doubt if even half the original number stuck around.”

“Still, that’s a lot of raiders.”

“Ech. Raiders are just oversized bullies. They rely on fear and intimidation to do most of their dirty work for them, and we weren’t afraid of them. Plus, Danse and Deacon on the same side of a battlefield as a team are… magnificent, frankly. I’m pretty sure the two of them could take apart anything they wanted if they ever actually got along for more than five minutes.”

Mac wasn’t exactly a friend of the Brotherhood, but he already liked the ex-paladin for his excellent taste in who to hate. “Nice.”

“Yeah. It took the better part of a couple of days to make sure we got everybody. I relocated the slaves to safer settlements and sent a bunch of my more adventurous guys there to get it ready. There was an attempted push-back, naturally, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Now NukaWorld is one of our most profitable settlements. Diverse, too. It’s huge and there’s plenty of room for everyone to have a place of their own.”

“How many people were freed?”

“Hmm, well… I think there were about ten total?”

“Ten?”

“I think. I’m honestly not sure. That part’s a little… fuzzy. I was very tired by the end of everything. Strong took me to my quarters so I could rest while the boys got things settled.”

‘The boys’ meaning Hancock and Deacon, no doubt. Took out three hundred raiders for ten idiots. That was insane. He couldn’t believe they’d let her do something like that.

She must’ve done that blanking thing after all the stress of the final battle. It would make sense. Except, Deacon had told him two weeks was her record for not having an episode, which meant she must have done it more than once in NukaWorld. That was terrifying.

“Cass?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you… you know, do that - that thing you sometimes do? When you were in NukaWorld?”

She went too still for a few seconds and then resumed finger combing his hair. “Don’t worry about that.”

“You did though, right?”

“I… I don’t want to talk about that with you.”

Mac frowned and held her tighter when he felt her tense. Almost like she was going to try to bolt. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

There were tears in her voice now. The heartbeat in his ear was a lot faster. Whatever the reason was, she really, really didn’t want to share it. Not with him, anyway.

“Okay.”

A quiet moment passed and she sighed, “It’s just… it’s a selfish, awful reason and… well, I guess I’m still hoping you won’t notice what a terrible, shallow sort of person I really am. That’s probably silly though. Everyone notices eventually.”

“You aren’t any of those things.”

“Yes, I am. If I were weren’t, I wouldn’t care how people looked at me or what they thought of me. But I do. I always have. It’s stupid. I left Hollywood because I was tired of chasing fame and adoration, but it’s like I’m compelled to do it no matter where I am.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

“I want to, though.”

She sighed again, “Okay, just… promise you won’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you.”

“Hmm, well. Never say never. It’s just… I just really like how you look at me. Like I’m already fixed. Like I’m better than I really am. You look at me like I’m not broken, and I haven’t had anyone look at me like that in a very long time.”

“Cass.” He raised up on his elbow so he could look at her properly. Her eyes were so sad and lost and he wanted to kill whoever had put this stupid idea in her head. “You aren’t broken.”   


“I am though.” She held up her wrist so he’d be forced to look at the bruise still lingering there. “Normal, healthy people don’t do things like this, honey. They just don’t.”

Mac took her hand and kissed it, “I’m sure some do. People are into weird sh-stuff.” He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. And it doesn’t make you broken. Broken people don’t get back up. You always get back up, right? Even if it sucks, even if you don’t want to, you do it anyway.”

Heavy tears were pouring down her cheeks and she shook her head. “Nobody who knew me before looks at me the same now.”

“So?”

“So it’s  _ awful. _ Nobody likes me like this. Everybody’s just waiting for me to get better. What if I don’t? What if I  _ can’t?” _

Yeah, he was getting to the bottom of this and then he was going hunting. “First of all, I like you plenty, so screw everybody else. Second, who cares if you can’t go back to who you were? People aren’t supposed to live in reverse, right? Everybody changes. That’s just how life works. I mean, I’m not who I used to be. If you’d known me back when I was Mayor, you… well, you’d have been shocked. Really. You would’ve hated me. I was a  _ brat. _ A big one, all the time.”

She smiled, just a little, at him and he kept going, desperate to keep her smiling.

“I mean, you think I run my mouth now? Puh. I was legendary for it back then. There’s probably still idiots out there traumatized by the nasty sh-stuff I said to them.” He almost had her giggling. He could see it in her eyes. “This one time, some lady showed up, wanted in the cave, right? Kind of a local hero, but like I cared about that. They kept bothering me, so I fired a warning shot between her feet and called her an ‘insane shit-sucking mutant-fucker’. Right in front of her buddy, too. I’m telling you, I was the  _ worst. _ I dunno what Lucy ever saw in me. Maybe she had a thing for jerks, who knows?”

Cass finally laughed. Just a tiny bit, but he’d take it. “You aren’t a jerk.”

“There are a lot of people who’d disagree with you, even now.”

“Well, then they’re wrong. You’re wonderful.”

“Yeah? Well, so are you. And if the people you know are looking at you and not actually seeing  _ you, _ then maybe you need to get to know better people.”

“It really doesn’t bother you? When I… you know, get all weird?”

Mac shrugged, “I mean, a bit of warning would’ve been nice before that first time ‘cause that scared the crap out of me. I thought you’d been drugged or something. But, no. Not really. If you need to… I dunno, get away from everything and it’s the only way you can, then it’s fine. It’s not hurting you, right?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. I just lose time.”

“Okay. Okay, well… then that means you shouldn’t be alone, right? Cause if it happened some place dangerous, you’d be in trouble, right?”

“I guess.”

“Hmm. Then it’s probably a good thing you’ve got a personal bodyguard, huh?”

She smiled softly at him, “It probably is.”

“Of course, if I’m gonna be on duty twenty-four seven…”, he laid back down and pulled her along until her head was resting on his shoulder. “Means I gotta be as close to you as possible at  _ all times. _ Even while you sleep.”

Another laugh when his arms went around her protectively and squeezed, “Is that so?”

“Yup. Now, I know you’re a lady and all, and I wouldn’t want to embarrass you. You've got your modesty and whatever.”

“Clearly, yes.”

“So I guess the only thing we can really do is go ahead and get it over with.”

“Get what over with?”

“I’m just gonna have to see every inch of you tonight so it’s not so shocking for you when it happens later on.”

“Oh, wow. That’s just… so thoughtful of you, honey.”

“I know. I’m a thoughtful kinda guy.”

Cass grinned at him but it faded quickly. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“I just… I brought up all that trying to help you and you ended up helping me. Again.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yes, there is.” Pussyfooting around hadn’t gotten her anywhere so she went with the direct approach. “What’s with you and raiders?”

He immediately looked uncomfortable and scowled, “Lots of people hate raiders, Cass.”

“I know.”

“Anybody with sense hates raiders.”

“That’s also true, but other men aren’t… I mean, most men don’t react like… did something happen? Something to somebody you cared about, maybe?”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“No, but I think we should. Especially if it’s going to get between us in any way.”

“It’s not!”

“It already did, honey.”

Mac sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling for a minute. “Fine.”

Cass put her head back down on his chest and snuggled close. His heart was beating faster, but not as panicked as before. Her hand traced along the scars a lifetime in the wastes had left across his chest and waited patiently for him to begin.

“That’s distracting as hell.” He muttered softly and then immediately huffed when she paused. “I didn’t say you had to stop.” She laughed but started again and he closed his eyes, focusing on the way her fingers felt on his skin to keep him grounded. “I told you Lucy and I grew up in Lamplight together, but I dunno if I told you I was older than her. By almost a year. I aged out first. She wanted to come with me, but she was the town’s only doctor and she had to train up the next one. I told her to stay put where it was safe. That I’d go out and get us a place and come back for her on her sixteenth birthday.”

“You must have really loved her to already know she was your one true love so young.”

“She was the only person I cared about back then. Nobody else mattered. I don’t think she realized it though. Not then anyway. I could tell she didn’t think I’d be back for her. Lots of people said they’d come back, but one of our fundamental tenants in Lamplight was all adults are liars, so… nobody was ever surprised when people didn’t return. She told me to not come to the cave to get her. That I should wait for her in Big Town instead.”

“Big Town?”

He laughed, “Yeah, Big Town. For the longest time, it was a fairytale. Where the big kids went when they left. For years it was just a killing field for super mutants. Sometimes slavers would show up and grab a bunch of people. By the time I grew up, it wasn’t that bad off anymore, but anybody with half a brain got out as soon as they arrived. It was still tradition though to make the pilgrimage. When I left, I went there, had a drink with a couple of guys I knew, and left. Didn’t even stay the night. I had better things to do and places to be.”

“Lucy said I could meet her in Big Town on her sixteenth birthday. I told her that was fine. That I’d be waiting. Then I took off to make my fortune. My first inclination was to join the Brotherhood. They were everywhere and it was that or a security detail for one of the towns. I’m sure you can guess how it went.”

“Did they even let you in the gate?”

“Oh, sure. Sure, they did. They knew who I was. Had a reputation already for being a sharpshooter. I managed to last about two days before I got tossed. Mouthed off to the wrong person a few too many times.” He shrugged, “At the time, I figured, who cared? Their loss. But it was my loss. Word travels fast in the Capitol Wasteland. By the time I approached the head of security in Rivet City, guy named Harkness, tales of my insubordination had spread. Megaton didn’t want anything to do with me, either. Regulators thought I was a punk kid. Even the caravans out of Canterbury Commons didn’t have anything for me. I was officially SOL.”

“They blacklisted you. That must have been scary. Sixteen and all alone and nobody willing to give you a chance.”

“Yeah, well… I had my rifle, so I ate. Shot the occasional raider, so I had enough caps to keep going. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough to support a wife and family on. So I kept looking. Eventually found a group of jerks called Talon Company. Basically the same as the Gunners, except they weren’t looking to create an empire yet. They just took any job. That was their whole thing. No matter how dangerous, or how messed up, they took it. Caps were insane, so I joined. Worked for them the whole time I waited for Lucy to grow up.”

“Then her birthday finally came. I was so freaking excited. I’d got us a little apartment in Rivet City. They charged a crazy amount for rent, but it was the safest place around so it was worth it. I’d have done anything for her, you know? I loved her. She was all I ever thought about.”

“She wouldn’t have liked you being in Talon Company though, right?”

“Right. Yeah, no. Definitely not. That’s why I had to lie about it. She always saw me as the best version of myself. I was scared that if I came clean about the things I’d been doing, she’d… well, she’d be scared of me.”

“Oh, honey.”

“It was stupid. Looking back on it, I’m pretty sure if I’d just explained everything, she’d have been alright with it. She was a champ at uh… what do you call it? Rationalization? She could justify anything I did.” He sighed, “Anyway. Her birthday. I was pumped. Had a whole spread in our room ready. New clothes for her and the kind of food you never got in Lamplight. Candles everywhere. Her first bottle of wine. All that jazz.”

“Romantic.”

“I guess. I was trying. I’d asked every lady in town what they liked and kinda just squished it all together.”

“Smart.”

“Thanks. I got to Big Town early. Way too early. I knew the Lamplighters wouldn’t let her leave until after lunch at the earliest. Everybody loved Lucy. I’m sure the goodbyes went on forever. So I just sat on my thumbs and counted the minutes, basically. Kept scanning the horizon looking for that stupid hat.”

“Hat?”

“Oh, yeah. That was part of the pilgrimage. You’d wear this stupid birthday hat. You know, one of those cone things?”

“Oh, right… kinda sounds like a graduation almost.”

“Yeah, it was. And the tradition of it was important to Lucy, so…” He shrugged, “I waited until around three and then I started to get worried. She never kept people waiting and it was just a few miles. Even if they’d pulled out all the stops, she would’ve left by one, maybe two. So I started looking for her. It didn’t take long for me to find the trail. They’d knocked the hat off her head when they put a slave collar around her neck.”

“Oh, no. That poor girl.”

“Yeah… see, there’s this place in the Capitol Wasteland called Paradise Falls. It used to be a shopping center before the war and… well, I guess it still is. Slavers love the place. No matter how many times it gets cleared out, they always eventually show up again. They use this thing called a mesmetron on people. Makes you really confused and unable to react. I got hit with one once and it felt like my brain was turned into InstaMash. Lucy was barely a mile away from Lamplight when she’d been taken.”

“I tracked them down before they got there. She was messed up, but was still trying to fight. I was proud of her for that. She’d never really been much of a fighter, but she kept digging her heels in until they finally had to carry her. It slowed them down enough that I could catch up.”

“Did they hurt her?”

“I mean, they roughed her up some, but no, not really. Teenagers from Lamplight went for a high price, but they usually had to be, you know, untouched or whatever, so they’d just slapped her a few times. Dragged her by her hair for a while. That kinda thing.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“But you were able to get her away?”

“Yup. Shot them from a hundred yards out. Idiots never even saw it coming. When she finally saw me, she told me later she’d thought she was dreaming. That I looked like an angel coming to rescue her.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah. Except…”

“Except what?”

“The guys who’d taken her were Talon Company. We did that sometimes. Took slaves for the merchants Paradise Falls. I’d never done it personally yet, but that was just because I was too new. I was wearing the same uniform of the assholes who’d…” Mac took a deep breath and tried to stave off the self-loathing. “I took the collar off her, got her home. Put her to bed so she could sleep it off, then I went and got just completely wasted.”

“I realized that was going to me someday. I was heading down that path. That no matter how fancy they dressed it up, they were just raiders. I was a  _ raider. _ I’d been hurting people, destroying lives for months and never even thought about it. Survival of the fittest. I just didn’t care. So long as I had the caps I needed for Lucy, I didn’t care. Scared the shit out of me. There was no way in hell a woman like Lucy would ever look twice at some good for nothing raider. I was so ashamed. I threw all my company gear in the river that night. Eventually found myself in the Rivet City lockup for being belligerent or drunk in public or something. I ended up telling Harkness the whole sad story and I guess he felt sorry for me. Got me a job with this caravaneer named Crazy Wolfgang. I worked for him until Lucy told me she couldn’t stand working in the clinic anymore. Then we headed out together.”

“I was too ashamed to ever tell her. I just vowed to myself to never, ever let myself slide down like that again. It’s a slippery slope, you know? Every decision I make, I ask myself ‘would a raider do this?’. Every single one. I was trying so hard and then I came up here and fell in with the exact same kind of assholes. Like that’s just what’s natural for me or something. I feel like I’m fighting fate some days, but I just can’t let Duncan grow up with a raider for a father. That… that would be…”

Cass held him tighter and shook her head, “It’s alright. I get it. You’re not a raider, Bobby. You’re so far from it you can’t even see it in the rearview mirror.”

“That’s some pre-war reference, right?”

“Oh, right. Okay, um, you’re so far past it it’s not even a dot on the horizon.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you think so.”

“You shouldn’t let it hold you back though, honey. That guilt and fear’s eating you alive.”

“Hmm.”

“It is.” She rose enough that he’d have to look at her, “You know it is.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

“Yeah, but I’m old and a lost cause, see? You’re young and could still turn everything around.” She grinned at him when he frowned up at her so he'd realize she was only half serious. "Listen, kiddo, everybody's got a line that they just won't cross. Where that line is is usually a pretty good indicator of if they're a good person or not."

"Okay."

"Okay, so, let's say you'd been given that assignment from your bosses. Ordered to go poach some pretty little girl or a family or whatever. What would you have done?"

"I'd probably have told them to go get fucked. Especially if it was about Lamplight."

"Well, there you go. You did care about something other than caps and Lucy. You had your line. You think a real raider has a line like that? Cause I doubt it, and I've unfortunately known quite a few raiders in my day."

"I guess not."

"That's right. You were never going to be like them. Those men dragged a sixteen year old girl across the wastes. Made her cry, hurt her and didn't feel a thing about it. There is no way you could or would ever do something like that, honey. There just isn't."

Mac watched her eyes, "You look at me like she used to sometimes. Like I'm actually worth something."

Cass felt tears well up but smiled at him anyway. "Oh, sweetheart. Don't you know? You're worth everything."


End file.
